


Unexpected Colors

by Demiwitchwoodwalker



Series: The Lion Hidden Underneath [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Andromeda is a good aunt, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts First Year, How Do I Tag, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Multi, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Third Person, Pansy basically takes over Malfoy's role in the books, because Draco's part of this now, but she's honestly like ten times worse, the Golden Trio is now the Golden Quartet or whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 119,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23749288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demiwitchwoodwalker/pseuds/Demiwitchwoodwalker
Summary: Draco Malfoy had grown up thinking that he had to be in Slytherin when he finally got to go to Hogwarts, or else the world would fall apart. That's the way his parents treated it, always going on about how Slytherin was the House for the Malfoys, the only good house in the entire school, the only place he would fit in. Except... now he isn't sure, because yes, everything feels like it's falling apart, but at the same time he feels relieved. All the pressure he's felt his entire life has finally been lifted, and he can't change it now. He's not a Slytherin. He's not who his parents wanted him to be. But, finally having some proof of that makes him realize that maybe he never really wanted that. Maybe he always secretly wished to be something else, to be someone else. Though, how will his parents react to this? What will happen to him now? He's a bloody Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake! The last house his parents wanted him to be in! What would they do to him? Would they disown him?Aka, the Gryffindor Draco AU that absolutely nobody asked for but I wrote because I have no life in Quarantine and need to write to stay sane.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott & Pansy Parkinson & Blaise Zabini (past), Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Series: The Lion Hidden Underneath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710832
Comments: 99
Kudos: 356





	1. The Sorting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not fully sure where this idea originated from, or where exactly I'm going with this (aka, I have ideas for their first year, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh, but I have no idea what exactly to do in the second and third years...), so we're gonna see how far I get with this. I'm hoping I'll actually finish this and that at least someone will enjoy it. I should have plenty of time to write this, considering I have no social life outside of school and that is cancelled until next September, so... yeah. Also, this first chapter is a lot more of a prologue than an actual chapter, but I'm counting it as the first chapter because it's over 2,000 words and something does actually happen, even if it's honestly mostly set-up. I'm going to try and at least vaguely stick to the plot-line of the books, at least for the first four books, things will definitely go a bit off during the sixth book. Anyways, enough rambling from me, onto the story! Hope y'all enjoy!

Draco Malfoy stood among the rather large feeling group of his fellow first years as one by one they walked up to the head of Gryffindor house, Minerva McGonagall, and had the Sorting Hat placed on their head. Everyone had at least somewhat nervous expressions on their faces, all except him that is. He kept his face completely void of emotion, not allowing anyone to see any of the fear he felt himself. The strength of his emotionless expression was almost creepy, too flawless to not have been created over years of fear of showing one's true feelings. Most eleven year olds were not capable of such a mask, of such skill at hiding, in fact it was not normal for one to be so good at it. The only one in the hall his age whose forced blank expression could rival his was that of Harry Potter, who had tugged his fringe forward so that it was covering his eyes, which were forcefully blank behind his glasses. Draco glanced at the raven haired boy for a brief second before his silver eyes wandered back to the front of the hall, coming to rest on the old hat sitting on a girl’s head.

What if he didn’t get into Slytherin? His father would surely disown him! Except… did he really want to be there for himself, or was he simply too afraid of what would happen to him at his father’s hand if he wasn’t? _No, I want to be in Slytherin. I want to. I_ want _to. And I will be in Slytherin._ He told himself firmly, yet the small ounce of doubt continued to flicker and grow like a flame caused by a match being tossed into a patch of dry grass.

“Malfoy, Draco.” His head snapped up to look at the strict looking witch in emerald green robes, forcing himself to swallow down his doubts. _Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll put the hat on and it’ll put you where you’re supposed to be._ Draco lifted his chin up high and forced a confident smirk onto his face as he sauntered up the two steps to the small wooden stool standing on three rickety legs. The stool squeaked softly below the blond as he sat down and he felt his shoulders tense slightly as the old hat was placed on his head, sliding down over his eyes and obscuring everything in the Great Hall from his view.

_“Interesting. Very interesting. You are a rather unusual Malfoy, quite unlike your father, though that is well hidden, even from yourself.”_ Draco tensed up again as he heard the voice of the Sorting Hat whisper in his ears a few seconds later, loud and clear like the sound was surrounding him, filling the air like tiny gnats. _“Hmm… I sense much ambition in you, and a deep need to prove yourself, yes. There is a lot of potential lying beneath, waiting to be uncovered, but where to put you? You could do well in Slytherin, but is that really where you fit? No, I don't believe so.”_ Draco gulped, shaking his head weakly and making it slip further down on his head. _“Hmm… let’s see… You have a strong heart, yet are afraid to show it. Ah, I think I have it… Yes, I think I do... “_ His entire body seemed to flinch in anticipation the moment the hat said that, his mind pleading that he would be in Slytherin, even if he didn’t fully fit in there. There he would at least be left alone by his parents and everyone else.

“GRYFFINDOR!” The blond’s eyes snapped open, widening in a look of fear and confusion as the hat was slowly taken from his head and the bright light of candle flames washed over him once again. A shocked hush had fallen over most of the Great Hall, many of the Slytherins looked disgusted, confused, and ever so slightly horrified, the Gryffindors looked surprised, but not necessarily disdainful, despite the fact that the son of a possibly former Death Eater has just been sorted into their house. He swallowed thickly and shakily stood up, all of his earlier confidence gone, replaced by an uncomfortable shakiness that made him feel like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. His silver eyes flitted around at the people looking up at him and then slowly made his way back down the steps, wishing he could be walking in the opposite direction just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with those looks of confusion being sent his way. The moment he reached the first step applause suddenly broke out from the Gryffindor table and he looked at them in shock, almost stopping in the middle of the stone steps. Why were they applauding for _him_ , a _Malfoy_? Malfoys weren’t meant to be Gryffindors, they weren’t meant to wear red and gold!

Except… he was. He was, Draco Malfoy was a Gryffindor. Somehow. That was something he needed to accept now, even if it was the exact opposite to what he had thought would happen to him just twenty minutes ago when he had been led into the Great Hall with the other First Years. Gulping again, trying to calm his nerves and fears, he approached the Gryffindor table and sat down at the far edge of the bench, his shoulders tense and eyes downcast. There was no telling what they might do to him if he sat close enough to them, if he tried to talk to them like he hadn’t looked down on them his entire life for no reason besides his parents’ opinions. That’s what everything in his life had always been, every one of his choices, his opinions, his thoughts, they had all been fed to him by his parents like meat to a tiger being held in a zoo. He had never been given his own choices, never been allowed to have his own opinions on things, had never been allowed to speak up for himself.

All he had ever wanted to do was get his father’s approval, but now there wasn’t a chance of that anymore. He had done the worst thing he possibly could, he was put in Gryffindor, the very last house his parents wanted him in. He could be disowned for this, and what would he do then? Where would he go? He had never been particularly talented when it came to making friends, the only ones he had were chosen by his parents and they didn’t really have any more of a choice than him.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shove those thoughts aside, only to have his attempt disrupted by a firm hand on his shoulder. His eyes flew open and he tensed up all over again, half expecting to see his father standing behind him with a disappointed scowl and a dangerous glint in his eyes. However, instead his gaze met that of a redheaded boy, who smiled ever so slightly at him.

“Welcome to Gryffindor.” He said before releasing his grip on Draco’s shoulder, turning back to face the front of the hall as a brunette girl, surname being Moon or something of the sort, was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Draco stared at the older boy in shock, though he tried his best not to let his surprise show. The redhead was obviously a Weasley, the son of the man who was basically the rival of his own father, Lucius Malfoy. Why did he greet him as if he were… as if he belonged? As if he were his equal? His father had always told him the Weasleys were blood-traitors, terrible people who had betrayed the Wizarding War and who looked at the Malfoys like they were scum. Why wasn’t that what was happening? Had his father been wrong? No, no, he couldn’t be wrong. He was his _father_ , the one person who always had the answers and who didn’t lie, no matter how harsh the truth was, he couldn’t be wrong about the Weasleys. The older boy was probably just being polite for show, yes, that’s what it must have been. But why bother doing that when everyone already knew about the rivalry between their families?

“Potter, Harry!” Professor McGonagall’s voice ripped him out of his slightly confused and panicked thoughts and his head snapped forward to watch as the one and only Harry Potter shakily walked towards the stool in the front of the hall. Whispers followed the statement, the sound likes wind blowing through tall, thick grass. Then a sudden hushed silence fell over the hall, not too unlike the one that had taken place when he had been placed in Gryffindor, as the raven-haired boy sat down on the rickety wooden stool and had the ratty brown hat placed on his head.

For at least two whole minutes nothing seemed to happen and the hall fell back into hushed whispers, this time slightly nervous however, not excited. Why was it taking so long for the hat to sort Harry Potter? It seemed obvious to Draco where he should be, so why hadn’t the hat just called out “Gryffindor” yet? Surely he wouldn’t end up somewhere else, like Slytherin, right? That seemed like the last place a person like Potter would end up. Then again, Gryffindor felt like the last house he would be put in, yet here he was, surrounded by older students wearing scarlet and gold. Draco looked around at those sitting on the bench beside him, and just as he was debating maybe actually moving a bit further down the bench so he didn’t look like he was actually trying to avoid everyone, the Sorting Hat finally exclaimed.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Potter’s shoulders visibly relaxed as the hat was pulled off of his head and he stumbled off of the stool and down the stone steps towards the Gryffindor table, relief visible in his facial expression. Cheers and applause, at least ten times louder than when he had been sorted, erupted from the students around him as Harry sat down next to Draco on the wooden bench and glanced around before running a hand through his already messy hair and looking down.

“We’ve got Potter, We’ve got Potter!” Two identical redhead twins began chanting and without fully wanting to, Draco clamped his hands over his ears and glared up at the older boys. _There’s no need to rub it in the face of the other houses. Okay, I would if I was in Slytherin or some other house and he got into it, but Gryffindor was just obvious. It’s just a house anyways, it doesn’t mean anything._ He thought a bit bitterly, only to have a voice in the back of his mind immediately snap back at him. _Says the boy who’s terrified of what him being in Gryffindor means._

Draco shook his head ever so slightly and slowly lowered his hands as the noise calmed down and the hall fell back into relative silence, waiting. Harry’s face was flushed in slight embarrassment and confusion, his fringe falling in front of his eyes like a curtain of black silk. He fidgeted nervously with his wire-rimmed glasses and his emerald green eyes were focused intently on the table in front of him as if its surface was ten times more interesting than the people around him. The Sorting Ceremony quickly resumed and of course the Weasley was in Gryffindor as well, as expected. How in Merlin’s name was he meant to fit in with these people? He had never been the Gryffindor type, he was supposed to be in Slytherin! Why would anyone accept him here? The Sorting Hat couldn’t have been right, there was no way he could actually fit in better with the “brave”, idiotic Gryffindors than with the sly Slytherins who had grown up surrounded by. There had to have been some sort of mistake. Except, when he really thought about it, it struck him how maybe that wasn’t true. He had always secretly thought that his family and “friends” had been too arrogant and self-centered for their own good, but simply thinking something like that couldn’t make him not Slytherin… right? How can one simple thing, like being sorted into a different house than you were always told you would be, change and complicate things so much that it was all he could think about?

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had no clue when to end this chapter, and I probably could have continued this for at least another thousands words, but I decided to just end it there and write the dinner next chapter or something. I hope you at least somewhat enjoyed this!


	2. The Feast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, honestly this chapter is boring but well... I didn't want to skip the whole dinner and just jump forward to the next morning. Sorry if this really is too boring, hopefully the next chapter will be a bit more interesting than this one. Quite a bit of the dialogue in here is from The Philosopher's Stone, but I only have my German copy on hand at the moment so the wording probably won't be exactly the same, so... yeah...

“Hey, you... okay?” It took Draco way too long to notice that Harry Potter had been addressing him, and it took him even longer to formulate an answer. 

“Yes…?” The blond drawled, looking at the other boy with a raised eyebrow even though his answer came out as a question, rather than a statement. What did Potter want? Just half an hour ago he had been arguing with him, why was he asking if Draco was okay? “Why?” He asked then before Potter could mention his slightly uncertain tone. 

“Well, there’s been food in front of you for the past ten minutes and you haven’t even looked at it.” The raven haired boy said in a matter-of-fact voice and then immediately clamped his mouth shut, his green eyes wide with a look of fear as if he were about to be slapped. “Uh, I mean, you just… I… Nevermind.” He quickly shook his head and messed up his dark hair with his hand as he looked back at the somewhat small amount of food on his plate, purposefully looking anywhere but Draco as he scooted a tiny bit away from him. 

For a few seconds all Draco did was look at Harry in confusion, wondering what he possibly could have done to make the other boy, the boy who had saved the wizarding world as a  _ baby _ , scared of him.  _ The first thing you did when you met him was basically bully him. If he wasn’t slightly hesitant of you, it would be strange. _ He thought and then looked away from the Boy Who Lived, beginning to pile food onto his plate. There really was a lot of food, at least a hundred times as much as there was on the table every day at the Manor, and that was saying something considering how much food their house elves seemed to think the Malfoys needed.

“That looks delicious.” A slightly airy sounding voice pulled Draco out of his thoughts and he looked up from his plate, only to realize that the ghost hadn’t been speaking to him in the first place. The shimmering, pearl white form of a man in incredibly old fashioned robes hovered just a few inches over the stone ground just across the table from Draco, right behind Ron Weasley, looking at the food on Harry’s plate with a look of severe longing.

“Can you not-?” Said raven-haired boy began to ask, but before he could finish the ghost interrupted him with a slight scowl.

“I haven’t eaten a thing for almost four-hundred years. Of course, I have no need to, but one still misses it. Have I even introduced myself yet? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service. Ghost of Gryffindor house; I live in the tower.”

Draco slowly raised one dark blond eyebrow, and was about to go back to his food, becoming uninterested in the conversation once again, when the youngest Weasley burst out in an excited voice: “I know who you are! My brothers told me about you. You’re Nearly Headless Nick!” The blond’s head snapped up again, a bit more of an instinct than complete interest, though the redhead’s words did confuse him slightly. The ghost’s head looked perfectly intact, attached firmly to his neck.

“I would much appreciate it if you would call my Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-” The ghost of Gryffindor started but Draco interrupted, not really thinking about how rude it probably came off as, just wanting to get the question out of him.

“ _ Nearly  _ Headless? How in Merlin’s name can someone be  _ nearly _ headless?”

The ghost’s expression seemed to turn cloudy and Draco could have sworn his appearance became more of a transparent, pale blue than white for a brief moment. “Like this.” His voice sounded slightly angered as he grabbed hold of his left ear and pulled harshly at it. Draco couldn’t stop his silver eyes from widening in horror and disgust when the ghost’s entire head tipped easily to the side and fell limply against his shoulder. A grossed out gasp escaped his lips at the soft thud the head made. Obviously someone had attempted to decapitate the ghost at some point and hadn’t had enough force in their swing to fully succeed, therefore leaving him with a thin layer of skin keeping his neck and skull together. A small, smug grin tugged at the corner of Nearly Headless Nick’s pale lips at the sight of all of the first year Gryffindors’ shocked and slightly disgusted faces. It looked eery on the face that was tilted far too much to the side, beside the colorless, bloody stump of his neck. 

“So- The new Gryffindors! I hope you all will try your best to get us to win the House Cup this year? Gryffindor has never gone this long without a win. Slytherin’s gotten the cup for the past six years! The Bloody Baron is starting to become quite insufferable; - He’s the ghost of Slytherin.” The ghost said as he tugged his head back into place, hiding every trace of his neck’s abnormality besides the faint silver line that ran through its middle and was mostly hidden by the collar of his robes. Draco couldn’t stop herself from looking down at his food at the mention of the house he had been told he should have been in and the reminder that he was in the rival house instead in the same sentence. All of his previous doubts and thoughts, which had momentarily been pushed to the back of his mind, resurfaced suddenly and he probably would have zoned out again had one of the other first year boys, who was sitting on Harry’s other side, not spoken up.

“How’d he get so covered in blood?” The boy asked, his voice strangely curious and awed considering he was talking about the ghost of a person whose robes were soaked through with silver colored blood.

The ghost opened his mouth, about to reply, only to be interrupted by Draco as he looked over at the strawberry-blond haired boy over Harry’s head. “Nobody knows. There’s tons of legends about him among the Slytherins, like that he fought off a dragon and killed it before dying, to name one, but nobody actually knows what happened. He won’t tell anyone.” He said, using the subject of one of the few things his mother had ever told him about Hogwarts to push away his thoughts about his father and actually get himself into a conversation, even if it was just for a few minutes. 

All of the other first year Gryffindors that had at least been paying some amount of attention to what was being discussed with Nearly Headless Nick looked at him, some in shock and some in confusion. “How do you know that?” The same boy asked and Draco hesitated for a moment before answering.

“My parents were in Slytherin.” Surprise flickered across his features and, despite the fact that he had never felt anything but pride about who his parents were and their Hogwarts House, Draco found himself looking down at the table in a mix of shame and embarrassment, his normally pale cheeks slightly pink. 

“How’d you end up in Gryffindor then? My mum always made it seem like kids who had Slytherin parents were pretty much always in Slytherin themselves.” Draco shrugged a bit helplessly and didn’t answer, instead beginning to pick at his food again with his fork in an attempt to distract himself. Generally, what he had said was true; almost all wizards with two Slytherin parents ended up in there too. Why did he of all people have to be the one, rare exception? Relative silence fell over the small group of Gryffindors after that, and Draco’s thoughts drifted off all over again.

Did his father know where he was sorted into? His mother? No, surely, neither of them had any way of knowing yet, though he had no doubt they would be aware by morning. His godfather worked in the school after all, was the Head of Slytherin House at that, he was bound to owl, or floo, his parents as soon as he possibly could. Oh Merlin, he was in for it now. His father would most definitely send him an owl the next morning, a normal letter if he was extremely lucky, a Howler if he wasn’t. Draco let his fork fall onto the table beside his plate with a soft, almost inaudible thud as he groaned quietly. He was just about to push the golden plate away from himself when all of the leftover food on his and everyone else’s plates vanished into thin air and the food on the platters running in a long line down the middle of the table was replaced by hundreds of different desserts.

Draco froze in place for a few brief seconds before pulling his plate back towards himself slowly and biting his lower lip. Everything looked unnaturally delicious, and his mouth watered ever so slightly, he hadn’t seen this many sweets in his entire eleven years of life added together. He really didn’t feel hungry anymore, his appetite seemed to have disappeared, yet he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing a piece of chocolate cake and beginning to slowly eat it, his mind somewhat going quiet, nothing he hadn’t already thought whispering in the back of his mind. Distantly, he heard the other Gryffindors begin talking about their families and let himself get caught in their conversation, effectively silencing his still nagging thoughts as he listened to them with barely any interest. 

“I’m half and half,” the strawberry-blond haired boy from before, Seamus Finnigan, Draco thought his name was, was saying at the moment. “My dad’s a Muggle. Mum didn’t tell him she was a witch until they were married. Was a bit of a shock for him alright.” Everyone but Harry and Draco laughed at that, Draco because he just couldn’t bring himself to find something incredibly amusing at the moment and Harry… well, Draco wasn’t sure, it seemed to him like something the other would think was amusing, but the green eyed boy just stayed silent, his expression blank and slightly distracted. He didn’t seem to care about the other boys’ families anymore than Draco did, though there was a contemplative look in his eyes as if he were thinking hard about something, unlike the most likely somewhat fearful glint that no doubt was displayed for all to see in his own eyes.

_ What could he possibly be thinking about that made him look so distracted and blank? _ Draco wondered and almost asked him about it, only to stop himself just as he opened his mouth.  _ No, I shouldn’t ask. He already doesn’t like me, no need to make it worse by making it sound like I’m trying to find out all his secrets. _ A soft sigh escaped him and Draco stabbed his fork into his cake a bit too violently for it to look casual as he glanced back over at the boy next to him. Seemingly in the exact second he did this however Harry gasped out in pain, his emerald eyes snapping shut and his right hand flying up to his forehead as if something had hit him there. 

“Ow…” He mumbled under his breath, the corners of his lips turned down into a grimace as he massaged his forehead with the palm of his hand as if to ease some kind of pain. 

“You alright there, Potter?” Draco found himself asking and Harry looked over at him abruptly in surprise, lowering his hand slowly and nodding.

“Y-Yeah.” The light tremble and stutter in the raven-haired boy’s voice gave away that he was lying but Draco decided not to call him out on it, no matter how much he wanted to. Harry glanced back in the direction he had been staring aimlessly a few seconds previously and his face screwed up into a confused frown.

“Do you know who the teacher with the kind of long, dark hair is?” He asked suddenly, and even though his tone made it obvious he didn’t think he would actually receive an answer, Draco followed his gaze, finding himself looking straight at his godfather.

“Yes. He’s Professor Snape, he’s the Head of Slytherin.” Draco immediately averted his gaze from the man again and slowly lifted the last bite of his cake into his mouth before pushing his plate and fork away from himself, he really wasn’t hungry anymore now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was terribly boring and even shorter than the last chapter, but I promise the next one will actually not just be scenes from the book with Draco added in and it'll be longer.


	3. Howlers and Bloodtraitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you all so much for commenting and leaving kudos, it really makes my day when you do! If I'm being completely honest, I didn't expect anyone to actually take any interest in this story, but I'm really glad people have. Once again, thank you!
> 
> On a different note, geez, this is pretty long one. It nearly as long as the other two chapters combined, and I almost made it longer. Also, I was thinking about digitally drawing random scenes from this (just to staunch my boredom, honestly) and I was wondering if anyone would like to see that?

Draco awoke the next morning to the loud voices of three of the other five boys in his dormitory arguing and a thin beam of bright sunlight hitting him right in the face as it fell through a small gap in his curtains, nearly blinding him when he cracked his eyes open. Seamus, Dean, and Ron were all yelling at each other about something, though what exactly it was Draco didn’t bother attempting to figure out before he sat up, feeling annoyance rise up in him. 

“Can you guys shut the bloody hell up? Some people are still trying to sleep!” He snapped, interrupting the three Gryffindors and causing them all to face him as he opened the scarlet red curtains surrounding his bed. 

“They started it!” Ron said quickly, pointing at the other two boys who both looked at him indignantly.

“Did not! You did!” Seamus snapped back, his glare like daggers as he clenched his hands to fists.

“You’re the one who started yelling at me!” The redhead glared right back at the other Gryffindor, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. Dean rolled his eyes slightly and shook his head, turning away from the others as he scoffed and walked over to his trunk without saying a word, obviously wanting out of the conversation. 

“What are you guys even arguing about?” The soft, slightly slurred with sleep, voice of Harry asked from the bed directly to Draco’s left.

“Ron knocked over my trunk when he got up and woke me up!” Draco scoffed in disbelief and rolled his silver eyes, shaking his head and causing a few stray strands of platinum blond hair to fall into his face.

” _ That _ ’s what you woke me up at…” He paused for a brief second, looking around for a clock and spotting one just over the door to their dorm room, slightly out of place in the stonewalled room. “Six Forty in the morning for?” He rolled his eyes and threw the curtains around his bed completely open, standing up.  _ Why couldn’t I be in Slytherin, or at least Ravenclaw, if nothing else? At least then I wouldn’t be sharing a dorm with a bunch of idiots!  _ Draco thought as he began to rifle through his trunk, ignoring the Gryffindors who had begun arguing again and wondering if he could find some way to get around wearing his red and gold robes. Being in their house was bad enough, add wearing their colors into the mix and that makes it even more intolerable.

_ Not without losing house points I can’t, and if this is my house now… _ Draco sighed begrudgingly in defeat and glared over at the other boys, still yelling for completely pointless reasons. How was he going to handle being in this dorm with them for the next nine months without going completely mental?

  
  
  
  


About forty minutes after Draco had entered the Great Hall for breakfast, and had received his schedule from Professor McGonagall, hundreds of owls swooped down from the ceiling, coming in through hidden windows with letters and packages tied to their legs. All around him owls were landing on the table and extending their legs towards students, who took their mail quickly and began opening it excitedly, their food forgotten for the moment. Draco gulped slightly, terrified of the owl he was bound to receive sometime in the next day from his parents. There was no universe out there where his father would accept his house as being Gryffindor. The best possible ending to this would be his father simply being disappointed about it, worst case…

The steady stream of owls gradually slowed down and eventually only a few owls came in at a time. When ten minutes of owls flying in had passed and nothing happened, Draco felt his shoulders sag in relief and he buried his face in his hands for a brief moment. His dad hadn’t sent an owl yet. His father was all about timing and making sure nothing was late. If an owl hadn’t shown up for him ten minutes after all the others did, he was surely safe. Maybe he wouldn’t even get the owl in the Great Hall, maybe it would be in his dorm, where he-

A hoot from an owl, coming from just to his right, made him look up in fear again, his previous relief gone. His father’s barn owl, Thoth, was perched on the wooden table right beside him, its yellow eyes glinting and its brown feathers metallic and bronze looking in the morning sunlight streaming in through the large windows behind the staff table. A blood red envelope was attached to its left leg, which was extended towards him in a way that made Thoth look impatient, if owls really could look impatient in the first place. Draco’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of the letter, frozen in place as he comprehended what the scarlet paper meant. His father had sent him a  _ Howler _ , in the middle of breakfast, where he was surrounded by hundreds of students.

_ That’s the point of a Howler. So everyone knows you’re in big trouble.  _ A voice whispered in the back of his mind and Draco let out a shaky breath, reaching over to untie the letter from the barn owl’s leg with trembling hands. What was his father going to say? It definitely wouldn’t be anything along the lines of “Well done on getting into Gryffindor, your mother and I are so proud!”. Yeah, Draco would be questioning his sanity, and all of reality, if that was even close to what his father said.

“Malfoy’s got a Howler!” Seamus exclaimed and Draco looked up in slight shock to see a bunch of people at the Gryffindor table look over at him at the strawberry blond haired boy’s statement. He gulped slightly at the curious and slightly amused glances of those who had grown up in wizarding families and the confused ones of the muggleborns, and Harry, and looked down at the silver seal of the envelope, which suddenly seemed to be melting around the edges. The urge to stand up and run away was so all consuming that Draco could already feel his feet planting themselves firmly on the marble floor, only for him to slump back down again. There was no way he could get out of earshot of everyone before the envelope opened on its own and started speaking, and he couldn’t let people know how much of a coward he was. He couldn’t run from this. He was in the house for the people who were brave, he couldn’t be seen as the opposite now. He’d have to endure this, and not let anyone see how much it truly affected him. Malfoys didn’t show weakness, that’s what his father had always told him. 

With a shaky exhale he slit the envelope open and immediately dropped it onto the table in front of him as he waited for the yelling. He didn’t have to wait long for that; barely a second after he had broken the wax seal the loud, thundering voice of Lucius Malfoy boomed around the Great Hall. Students and teachers looked up from all over the hall, staring at him, some slightly scared looking.

“DRACO MALFOY,” his father’s voice started out eerily calmly, despite its volume, though Draco had heard him use that tone enough times before to know that he was beyond angry. “IT HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO MY ATTENTION THAT YOU WERE SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR LAST NIGHT. I AM SEVERELY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, I THOUGHT YOU WERE BETTER THAN THIS. I SUPPOSE I WAS WRONG. I WAS LEAD TO BELIEVE I HAD RAISED YOU WELL, BUT I SUPPOSE I WAS WRONG ABOUT THAT AS WELL. YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE, YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO THE MALFOY NAME. ALL OF OUR PLANS FOR YOU TO RETURN TO THE MANOR OVER SCHOOL BREAKS HAVE BEEN CANCELLED AND YOU WILL STAY AT HOGWARTS UNTIL SUMMER. DO NOT OWL US, WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO INTEREST IN HEARING FROM YOU.” 

Draco felt tears burn at the back of his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks in streams of saltwater as the Howler from his father erupted into bright orange flames. Whispers and snickers broke out around the room, laughs drifted over to him from the Slytherin table as well, laughs of the people he had grown up being friends with: Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Crabbe, Goyle… For a moment he continued to stay where he was, feeling a bit numb as he stared at the ashes of the letter which had basically just informed him his parents had disowned him. Thinking those thoughts, thinking he was a disgrace and a disappointment was a completely different thing from hearing someone else say them to him. It made them have so much more meaning, so much more power over him. 

That’s when it really hit him, what his father’s words meant. His father considered him a bloodtraitor, his parents hated him, he was no longer really part of the Malfoy family, he had been thrown out. Malfoy Manor would never truly be his home now. Draco pushed himself to his feet, trying to control the trembling of his small frame as he grabbed his schedule and bookbag, walking briskly out of the Great Hall, attempting to hide the fact that he was wiping at his eyes with the balls of his hands. The whispers of his fellow students followed him out into the corridor like a predator hunting its prey, and in his haste to get away before anyone saw his weakness, his  _ tears _ , he missed the look Harry Potter sent his way, one that wasn’t pity, but more a type of understanding.

Without fully knowing how he managed to get there, fifteen minutes later Draco found himself in the empty classroom of Professor Binn’s History of Magic class, which he had first on Mondays with Slytherin. His bookbag lay discarded next to his feet, leaning against the side of the desk in the far back corner he had collapsed onto, his schedule roughly shoved into it. The young, newly sorted Gryffindor crossed his arms on top of the desk in front of him and buried his face in them, his built up sobs finally escaping him, wracking his body in shuddering trembles. Tears quickly soaked the sleeves of his robes, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. 

It felt like he was drowning in his own tears, suffocating at the hands of his sobs, being ripped apart by his trembling. Everything felt like it was weighing down on him, and he just couldn’t get his father’s words out of his head. “ _ You are a disgrace to the Malfoy name. You are no son of mine. I am disappointed in you. We have absolutely no interest in hearing from you. _ ” What had  _ he _ done to deserve this? He couldn’t help where he was sorted! Yet, despite his small, weak reassurances to himself he continued to cry. How could one person have so many tears in them to shed? How could someone keep sobbing this much without going hoarse or passing out from exhaustion? 

Draco couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this, like everything was falling apart. The closest he could come up with was when his family had moved from their manor in France, which his parents had bought just after getting married so as to make it easier to hide from the Ministry of Magic. He had been six, and even though he just barely remembered what it had been like there, even though he could only remember vague, blurry faces and parts of names of his old friends, he could clearly remember the pain of having to leave them behind. It had felt similar to this in so many ways. He had lost what little familiarity he had left, again. He had left behind his friends and now he was all alone. His surroundings were new and terrifyingly unknown.

Except, now his parents weren’t there with him like they were before. His mother wouldn’t hold him to her chest and comb her fingers through his hair when he woke up crying. His father wouldn’t be there to read books to him before he went to bed to drive away the memories that manifested themselves as nightmares. Pansy wouldn’t be there to talk to about anything he wanted to. Blaise wouldn’t be there to play quidditch with him when he just needed to forget everything. Theo wouldn’t be there to talk about books. Crabbe and Goyle wouldn’t be there to pull pranks with. None of them would, because he was a Gryffindor. Because he was in the house of the brave, he was in the house filled with mudbloods - _ muggleborns _ , his mind distantly corrected him for no particular reason- and bloodtraitors. Because he wasn’t like them anymore. 

He was completely alone, with nobody to turn to. 

Eventually his sobs died down into quiet hiccups and then completely disappeared, leaving only a few stray tears on his cheeks and his face slightly blotchy from crying. Draco furiously rubbed at his eyes and cheeks, hoping to get rid of all traces of his previous crying. He got all of the tear stains off his usually pale cheeks and his eyes became slightly less red-rimmed, though only time could remove the rest. A soft, slightly shaky sigh escaped his lips a few moments later and he grabbed his leather bag, taking his copy of _ A History of Magic _ out and placing it on the desk in front of him. Surely, class would be starting soon, and it was better to have your stuff out before the professor got there and thought you were incompetent because you didn’t care enough to have your materials.

Sure enough, just under five minutes later, students started to slowly trickle into the room, walking together in groups. Pansy, Theo, and Blaise were the first to come in, laughing amongst themselves as if one of them had said some hilarious joke.  _ I wish I could be over there laughing with them, knowing who said the joke, being with people who I actually  _ know _. _ They walked towards the desks in the very middle of the classroom, placing their bags onto the floor and then looking around the room, possibly studying its deep violet curtains, dozens of paintings, or artifacts lining the walls, or possibly looking to see if more people were in the room. When their gazes landed on Draco, he felt himself stiffen, suddenly nervous. The laughter disappeared from all of their faces and Pansy started towards him, a nasty smirk spread across her face.

“Oh look, it’s the bloodtraitor. You enjoy that letter from your father, Malfoy? I think even the teachers found it amusing and pathetic how you ran out of there. How does it feel to know that you’re now on the same level as the mudbloods, and the Weasleys?” The Slytherin who used to be one of his best friends leaned forward against his desk, balancing her weight on her arms and one foot as she leaned so far across it that her nose was just inches from his own. Her dark brown eyes glinted maliciously in the sunlight streaming in through all of the windows in the classroom, and her dark hair looked almost like it was made of ink as it framed her pale face and unusually pink mouth. 

Draco averted her eyes then, unable to look directly into them without feeling a deep sense of longing for things between them to be normal again. He didn’t respond to her taunts, couldn’t even begin to come up with some kind of comeback to them. A part of him, the part that existed because of his father’s opinions on the world and the way he was always told to think, whispered that his former friend had a point. The rest of him seemed too defeated at the moment to argue with that and so he simply looked down at his textbook as if it was the most interesting book in all of existence.

“Nothing to say to that? Maybe you realized quicker than most who's superior and should be respected. Then again, you were always too easily convinced to do things. You’ve always been so weak and foolish. Just the fact that you’re a Gryffinfreak now is proof of that. Maybe it would have been better for all of us if you hadn’t been born, then at least your parents wouldn’t have to be so ashamed of someone who doesn’t deserve to be their son. I could arrange for you to vanish from this world if I wished to, in fact, I might just do it here. You’re a freak and a bloodtraitor, nobody would care if you disappe-” A different voice suddenly cut the rest of Pansy’s sentence off, and both her and Draco’s heads snapped to the right, the Slytherin in annoyance and the Gryffindor in shock.

“Leave him alone.” Harry Potter said, his emerald green eyes alight with anger and determination behind his round glasses and his hands clenched tightly at his sides.

“Oh, and why should I do that, Potter? How are you going to stop me?” Pansy retorted and straightened her posture so that she was now facing Harry with her arms crossed over her chest and an amused smirk once again on her lips. “You’re at least three inches shorter than me, and you don’t have a clue about magic, what do you think you can do? Get a teacher? I don’t see any around here, so I don’t think you’d have much success.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he took an angry step forward, ignoring the hand of Ron Weasley that was on his arm, trying to pull him back. “I defeated Voldemort as a baby, I think I’m fully capable of stopping you.” The Gryffindor’s voice seemed to ooze with self-confidence, though that seemed slightly unusual to Draco based on the way the raven-haired boy had been acting the other day and in Madam Malkins. He seemed like he wasn’t all arrogant and boasting about his power, but then again, maybe he really was and had simply hidden it in an attempt to make a better impression. Or maybe he was just really pissed off -though that made no sense to him considering the only reason he could be angry was Draco and he had made a very bad first impression on the other boy- and therefore was acting confident to get what he wanted.

Pansy’s smirk faltered for a brief second and she glared at Harry, pushing herself away from the desk Draco was sitting at. “I’m not afraid of you, Potter, but I find it rather amusing to see you attempt to make me scared. I’ll leave this bloodtraitor for now, but you can’t stop me from doing whatever I please.” She smirked again and then sauntered off to Draco’s other old friends, leaving Harry and Ron standing there, both a bit lost on what to do.

Draco looked down at his desk again, swallowing down the bitter taste in his mouth and resisting the urge to curl up into a ball in a dark corner of the classroom. “Thank you, I had it under control, Potter.” He said, hoping his voice didn’t shake as he did so.

“You’re welcome. And you can call me Harry if you want.” The Boy Who Lived said and walked towards Draco, only to stop a foot or so from his desk, looking hesitant. 

“I prefer Potter. We’re hardly friends, so I see no need to address you as such.” The blond said, forcing a small smirk onto his face and looking over at his housemate. 

Harry hesitated again and then sighed, suddenly looking slightly uncomfortable. “We could be friends, though I think we got off to the wrong start.” Ron’s gaze, which had been firmly directed angrily at Draco, snapped to Harry at that, his blue eyes wide.

“Harry-” He started to say indignantly, but the other boy cut him off before he would continue.

“He is our dorm mate, Ron. Do you really want to not be friends with one of the people we’re going to live with for the next seven years?” The redhead pursed his lips slightly, still looking angry.

“No, but Harry, it’s  _ Malfoy _ .” He said this in a way that made it sound like he meant Draco was a demon of some sort and the blond looked down, wishing to hide his hurt at that statement. 

“Yeah, but you saw the way those Slytherins were treating him. It’s hardly fair for us to treat him like that as well just because we had bad first impressions.” Harry said and then moved over to Draco’s left, sitting down next to him. Draco looked over at him in shock, about to say something only for his eyes to widen in shock when the Weasley sat down next to Harry, though he didn’t look exactly happy about it. 

“What-?” He started to ask, only to break off when Harry turned in his seat to face him, a small, genuine smile on his face as he extended his hand towards him. 

“I think we got off to the wrong start. I’d like to try again. I’m Harry Potter, it’s nice to meet you.”

For a few moments all the young Malfoy could do was stare at the tan hand, which had faint scars on it, hinting at him having been a bit of a rebellious kid, that was in front of him, waiting for him to shake it. His silver eyes looked up at the other’s green ones and he hesitantly took the hand as he met the other’s gaze. “Draco Malfoy, nice to meet you too.” Harry smiled at him and then let go of his hand, reaching into his bag to pull out his own textbook. Ron rolled his eyes, and did the same, though he didn’t so much as spare a glance at Draco as he turned to face the front of the classroom afterwards. Still, Draco couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved, and much less lonely than before. Maybe he wouldn’t be completely alone this year. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, this was angstier than I expected it to be, but I love angst and tend to drift towards that quite a lot, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. My best friend (who is the first person who gets to read any of these chapters) certainly hates me for this chapter, she's always begging for fluff. That's probably one of the only reasons this won't just be completely filled with angst and nothing else, so you can thank her for that. Also, the little comment she gives me on each scene give me life, they’re great. Anyways.... The whole Draco having previously lived in France thing was honestly not planned by me, it just kind of happened, but I suppose it's probably because I was attempting to describe how I imagined Draco must being feeling, but the only way I could come up with was the feeling of leaving everything you know behind for somewhere new and terrifying. The best way to feel like that is by moving, I've certainly done that enough times in my life to know...
> 
> Anyways, what did you guys think? Writing the Howler part hurt and writing in all caps felt weird, but it's how it was in the books, so I did it like that.


	4. Hagrid's Hut and Late Night Homework

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I have become totally immersed in writing this fic. I've started writing down ideas I get on papers and then sticking them into my copies of the books, where they would take place. Half of my books look a bit stuffed by now, lol, my first one particularly. I swear there's at least seven papers in there just from the past two days. 
> 
> Anyways, yes, I skipped Potions and everything else in their first week, nothing much changed besides Draco wasn't laughing at Harry during Potions. That's basically it. I'm trying at least somewhat make this my own story, without sticking super close to canon. Rewriting every single chapter exactly with only a bit different of events happening is boring anyways. Anyways, I skipped three fourths of a chapter, so... yeah. I also just realized that technically Gryffindor only has Potions and Flying with the Slytherins in the first book, so technically the last chapter wouldn't canologically (what kind of word did I just create, lol?) have been able to fully take place, but whatever. Also, I am working on two digital drawings currently, one of which is almost finished and the other is very detailed and big so it'll take a while. Anyways! Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

"We're going to have tea with that big oaf of a gamekeeper? Why?" Draco demanded of Harry on Friday afternoon as they walked through the castle grounds towards the borders of the Forbidden Forest. 

"Yes, Draco, he's my friend. And he invited us." Harry's voice had a slightly annoyed undertone and he glared at the blond out of the corners of his emerald eyes. 

“Technically he invited _you_ , Potter, Neither myself or Weasley were mentioned in that letter, so why are you dragging us off with you?” Draco couldn’t help but sneer slightly as he said it and Harry abruptly stopped walking to turn and face him, now very clearly angry and not just mildly annoyed. 

“I want you to meet him because you obviously have some sort of problem with him that has no reasoning behind it. Whatever terrible thing you think he is, you’re wrong. He’s the one who brought me into the Wizarding World and who took me to get my Hogwarts supplies, he’s not some terrible person, Draco. I don’t know who told you such things about him, but I’m taking you with because I want you to realize they’re wrong.” The young Malfoy blinked in surprise at the sudden venom in the other boy’s tone and raised his hands in a sort of “I surrender” gesture, his eyes a bit wide and his eyebrows raised.

“Merlin, Potter, calm down. Alright, I hear you.” Harry continued to glare at him for a few seconds before turning around again with a huff and resuming his stride toward the relatively small wooden hut which was now visible in the distance, standing out amongst the simple trees and gloom of the Forbidden Forest.

Draco hesitated for a moment before following the raven-haired boy, ignoring the slightly smug look on Ron’s face at him having been called out by Harry. “Slow down, Potter!” He yelled, jogging to catch up with the other boy, who slowed his pace ever so slightly, but still made it to the hut a good two minutes before Draco and Ron did. 

“Did you have to run ahead, Harry?” Ron demanded, for once thinking the same thing as Draco, as he clutched the stitch in his side from running. Harry shrugged slightly and then, without saying a word, knocked on the front door of the hut, which had a crossbow and a pair of galoshes standing on either side of it. _Why does he need a crossbow?! This is a school, there shouldn’t be anything dangerous here! I mean, there’s a forest that’s supposedly filled with dangerous beasts, but they didn’t come out of there… did they?_

“Get back, Fang - sit.” Draco heard a deep, rumbling voice say from inside after a loud barking and scratching noise drifted outside and a moment later the door opened just a crack to reveal a large, very hairy, scruffy looking face, blocking out almost all light coming from inside the hut. The very large man, most likely four times taller and wider than Draco, opened the door completely, only to raise a hand, that was the size of a garbage bin lid, to stop them before they could enter. “Wait, sit, Fang!”

When the large, black dog he was speaking to didn’t respond to his command he just let the three young Gryffindors in and grabbed hold of the dog’s collar to stop it from jumping any of them. The inside of the hut consisted of one large room with nothing separating it into sections. Meat hung from the ceiling by string, something was boiling over a fire in a cauldron, and a huge bed, at least five times bigger than any normal human needed, stood in the far corner with a quilt covered in insanely strange patterns thrown over it.

Draco looked around himself, feeling a bit out of place with his ever so slightly gelled back hair, fine tailored robes and spotless shoes in this rather unorganized room full of slightly dirty looking things. He had never been somewhere quite like it before in his life, not that he was all too surprised by that fact, his parents after-all rarely took him anywhere but other pure-blood families’ houses. The hut, despite the mess, seemed strangely comfortable and warm to Draco, like the place was made and enchanted to feel like a perfect home. The feeling he got from this place was foreign and confusing to him, yet also somewhat reassuring for reasons he couldn’t fully comprehend. Every house he had ever lived in had been far too big for the three people and their house-elves that lived in them and had felt far too cold and dark to make it easy to feel at home in any room beside his own and the living room. 

“Make yerselves at home.” Hagrid said, pulling Draco out of his thoughts and causing him to look up at the large man as he let go of the large dog he was holding back. Instinctively the blond flinched back, trying to get as far away from the animal as possible so that it wouldn’t even think about jumping on him. Maybe his idea worked, or maybe the dog just thought Ron looked more interesting, because it pounced at the redhead and began licking his ears as it tackled him to the floor.

“Ey! Get off me!” he yelled, though a smile was spread across his face as he roughly shoved the dog off his chest and scrambled to his feet before the dog could do anything else.

“This is Ron.” Harry said and Hagrid looked intently over at the redhead as he poured the boiling water from the cauldron hanging over the fire into a green teapot and put quite frankly burnt looking biscuits onto a plate. Before Harry could continue, most likely to introduce Draco, Hagrid spoke again.

“Another Weasley, am I right? I’ve spent half me life chasing those twin brothers of yers away from the forest.” Without having completely meant to Draco found himself snorting with barely suppressed laughter. Hagrid immediately looked over at him, slightly bewildered, as if he hadn’t realized he was there before. “An’ who might ye be?” The gamekeeper asked and Draco’s laughter died as spontaneously as it had begun. 

“I’m Draco, I’m in Harry and Ron’s dorm.” He said, deliberately not mentioning his surname due both to the fact that he knew the man wouldn’t like it and also the fact that he no longer truly felt like he was a Malfoy. 

“Ye know yer name means Dragon, don’t ya?” Hagrid asked and Draco blinked, not having expected that or the slightly curious and excited glint in the man’s dark eyes at all. 

“Yeah, I think that might be why my mother chose it. She always thought they were fascinating.” He reluctantly said, slowly lowering himself into the chair besides Harry’s, wishing he could somehow sink through the ground with it. 

“Well, yer mother’d be right about that. Dragons are some of the most fascinating and interesting creatures in the world. I’ve always wanted to have one.” Hagrid said, his voice taking on a slightly dreamy tone which freaked Draco out a bit. Who in the world would want a dragon? They may be interesting but they were much more dangerous than it was worth, for Merlin’s sake! Instead of saying this however he just nodded along as if he agreed and reached towards one of the biscuits, just so that the man didn’t think he was trying to be impolite, even if the idea of simply putting the burned thing in his mouth absolutely disgusted him.

The second he bit down on the “treat” the Hogwarts Gamekeeper had placed on the table in front of them he could’ve sworn a soft crack resonated from at least three of his teeth and he almost choked. _Oh, Merlin’s beard…_ The blond thought and pursed his lips, trying his best not to spit the bite he had in his mouth right back out. Hagrid was looking at him somewhat expectantly, though whether it was because he thought he would continue talking about dragons, or because he wanted to see his reaction to the biscuit, Draco didn’t know. Just to see if he could get the man’s gaze off of him he painfully swallowed the biscuit, feeling it scratch up his throat on the way down. 

He tried his best not to begin coughing until it all came back up again and placed his biscuit back onto the plate in front of him, forcing himself not to push it away. Hagrid smiled and then looked over at Harry, giving Draco the chance to gulp thickly and massage his throat a bit in an attempt to make the pain better. Ron cast him a slightly amused glance and the blond returned it with a glare, which only seemed to amuse the Weasley further, seeing as he almost began snickering and quickly covered it up by pretending to nibble at his own biscuit.

“So, how was yer first week at Hogwarts?” Hagrid asked and immediately Harry and Ron went into full-blown tales about everything that had happened over the past five days, their dorm-mate staying mostly silent throughout this besides making a few small comments and corrections every five or so minutes. Harry and Ron told the gamekeeper about how tiring Astronomy class was, how boring History of Magic was, and how much Harry despised Potions. 

“Don’t worry about Professor Snape, Harry. From what I’ve seen he treats all the students like that if they’re not in Slytherin.” Hagrid ended up telling Harry in a reassuring tone when the raven-haired Gryffindor brought up the way Draco’s godfather -not that the other boy was aware of this fact yet- had acted towards him. 

“But he seemed to really _hate_ me.” Harry insisted and Draco glanced down at the table in front of him, picking at a small part of the wood which had begun to splinter slightly, really wanting the subject to change before he got angry. He may not necessarily like his godfather at the moment, he had after-all most likely been the one to tell his parents of his sorting, and he really was being an awful jerk during his Potions lessons, but he still cared about him and really didn’t want to hear people talk bad about him.

“Nonsense!” Hagrid argued, though he avoided Harry’s gaze quite deliberately. “Why should he?” The tone with which he said that made it seem like the professor really did, though what that was, Draco had no clue.

“How’s yer brother Charlie doin’?” Hagrid seemed to have quite purposefully changed the subject, hoping to avoid further questioning, and even though Harry looked slightly confused, Draco couldn’t help the small wave of relief that washed over him at them not having to speak of his godfather anymore. “Liked him a lot, really knew how to get along with animals.”

Ron immediately began telling Hagrid all about his older brother’s job working with Dragons in Romania, obviously not having enjoyed the conversation about Snape all too much himself. The gamekeeper seemed to be so immersed in Ron’s story of how Charlie had sent his family an owl once saying he had both of his eyebrows singed off by a baby dragon that he wouldn’t notice if someone slammed the door open and marched in with their wands raised. 

Harry, like Draco, didn’t seem all too interested in Dragons and Ron’s brother and was staring intently at the surface of the table in front of him. Suddenly he reached forward and slipped a piece of paper Draco hadn’t noticed before out from under the teacap lying on the table and his eyes flitted over it quickly, his eyebrows getting closer and closer to each other the longer he stared at the small slip of paper which seemed to have been ripped out of something like a newspaper. “Hagrid!” Harry suddenly yelled and said man flinched so hard he nearly knocked over the teapot sitting on the table in front of him. “This break in at Gringotts was on my birthday! Maybe even while we were there!”

Once again Hagrid avoided Harry’s gaze, though why would he need to? Did he know more about this break-in he had heard his father speak of before the beginning of school than he should have? Instead of responding to Harry he simply groaned loudly and then offered him another biscuit, which Harry looked at like it could kill him if he so much as touched it, which it quite possibly could in Draco’s opinion. That lack of answer only raised Draco’s suspicion of the gamekeeper. What could the man be hiding?

* * *

  
  


After returning to the castle and having dinner, the three young Gryffindors all went up to Gryffindor Tower, deciding that it would probably be a good idea to at least start on the loads of homework they had. “It’s the first week of school, and we already have so much homework I could bury myself in the amount of books and scrolls it’ll take to finish.” Ron said in exasperation, practically throwing himself onto a chair at an empty table which was located just below a window in the far left corner of the common room. 

“It’s not that much, Weasley.” Draco said, rolling his silver eyes as he himself sat down in the chair opposite Ron, leaving Harry to sit down in the chair between them, his back facing the rest of the room. 

“We have to write a whole foot of parchment on what we’re doing in Potions right now! That’s a lot!” The redhead retorted as he took his textbooks out of his bookbag and placed them all in an uneven stack on the table beside him. 

“A foot is barely a scroll of parchment, Weasley, that really isn’t much. And besides, all you have to do is copy down information from the textbook into paragraphs, it’s really not that difficult.” Ron scowled over at the blond, but didn’t say anything in response, instead simply taking out a piece of parchment and a quill, along with a bottle of ink. 

It took Ron ten whole seconds of staring at the open pages of his Potions book before he looked up at Draco and said, quite simply: “I don’t understand a word of this.” Harry snorted slightly from beside him, but otherwise didn’t respond as he continued scribbling down sentence after sentence of facts about the potion they were supposed to be writing about, even though he had no real clue what any of what he was writing meant. Draco on the other hand looked up at the redhead, exasperation and annoyance written clearly all over his face as he scowled.

“Well, too bad for you then, Weasley.” He snapped and then went back to writing his own essay, leaving Ron to glare at him. 

For a few moments that’s all he did, then he growled, the sound seeming almost defeated and definitely annoyed. Draco glanced up at him for a second, sneering slightly at the other boy. “What?” He demanded and Ron pursed his lips for a moment before huffing and glaring at the Malfoy again, his blue eyes seeming to shoot ice at him. 

“Can you help me? You seem decent enough at Potions, Snape certainly didn’t make any snide comments on yours, unlike practically every other Gryffindor in the entire classroom.” Draco rolled his eyes and sighed a few seconds later. 

“Fine, I’ll help you, but you do not get to copy any of what I’m writing, you have to phrase it differently so that the teacher won’t realize I helped since we’re _supposed_ to do this on our own.” Draco scowled and shoved Ron’s books out of the way so that he could sit in the chair that faced away from the window and towards the common room, pulling his parchment, ink, and book with him. 

Ron looked over at the neatly written paragraph that was already scribbled onto the parchment in front of Draco and frowned, looking thoroughly confused again. “That still looks like a bunch of bloody nonsense to me!” He snapped and the blond huffed in annoyance again and began explaining how the simple Cure for Boils they were supposed to have made in class worked. He spoke in a slow voice, with one dark blond eyebrow raised as if he expected the redhead not to understand a word of what he was saying.

By the time he was done, Harry had already finished up his essay and had taken out his Charms homework, beginning to answer the questions Professor Flitwick had given them earlier that day. “You understand now, Weasley? It’s really not that complicated. Just write down what I told you and you’ll be _just_ fine.” Draco said and then turned back to his own parchment, quickly writing down the rest of his own essay as Ron sat there and blinked before quickly scribbling everything down in fast, messy handwriting before he forgot all of the information he had just been given. 

“Y’know, I heard there’s going to be quidditch try-outs next week.” Ron suddenly said after he had, not exactly quietly, closed his History of Magic textbook, obviously wanting to move away from the subject. Once again, though Draco would never admit it to a living soul (or a ghost for that matter), the blond found himself agreeing with the young Weasley. Seriously, who knew the history of the Wizarding World could be so boring? You'd have thought their history was dark and terrifying, going off of the stories Draco’s father had told him about what the Muggles used to do to Wizards. Nope, all they were learning about was the bloody invention of wands and the beginning of the owl post! Who cared about any of that stuff? _No wonder the whole class sleeps during those lessons._ Draco had thought the one time that week he hadn’t fully dozed off during Professor Binns’s long lecture on how a wizard had once stumbled across a stick which had a unicorn’s hair wrapped around it and how the moment he had touched it a tree had exploded nearby. _We’re not learning about anything interesting!_

“Yeah, and what use are try-outs for us besides to make us first years jealous because we aren’t allowed to play?” Draco retorted as he too slammed his book shut, causing a girl in their year with bushy brown hair to look up from her book and glare over at him for being loud so late at night. 

“We could watch, Fred and George are always saying how fun it is to see the people who are no good fail and sometimes even fall off their brooms.” Harry looked up at Ron at that, looking slightly confused and surprised along with a bit disturbed. 

“Isn’t that a bit mean?” He asked and Draco snorted, smirking slightly as he shook his head in disbelief. 

“Perhaps, Potter, but it really is funny to watch people fail at things as simple as Quidditch or flying.” The blond said and Harry’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion and his lips turned down at the corners. 

“I… you guys are probably going to judge me on this,” Harry started and paused hesitantly for a second, nervously pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and running a hand through his already messed up hair, tugging distractedly at the dark strands. “What exactly is Quidditch? Hagrid didn’t do all too well at explaining it to me when I asked him in Diagon Alley.” Harry’s voice sounded slightly scared as he asked the two other boys this, and looked down at the table, slightly embarrassed judging by the small splotches of pink on the boy’s cheeks. 

Without being able to stop themselves, both of them gaped at Harry for a solid fifteen seconds before both starting to speak at once. Ron however, glaring at Draco, quickly shut up when the blond’s voice got loud enough to drown out his own and almost wake up all of Gryffindor Tower. “Quidditch is the most popular and widespread wizarding sport in existence! A Quidditch Team has seven members: The Seeker, who catches this small, incredibly fast golden ball that’s worth 150 points and it being caught ends the game, The Keeper, who protects its team’s goals, two Beaters, who protect their team from the two bludgers which are metal balls that whiz around the field and try and knock people off their brooms, and three Chasers, who pass the Quaffle, a leather ball that scores ten points each time it goes through a goal, around and attempt to make goals. Every Hogwarts House has a team, and they compete for the Quidditch cup every single year. The whole school goes to the matches, sometimes classes even have to be cancelled for it because it goes on for so long. I’ve heard the longest game Hogwarts has ever had lasted for a whole week and a half!” Draco’s explanation came out quickly and ended up sounding like he was rambling, but instead of saying this Harry simply nodded along silently, trying to process that information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I attempted Hagrid's accent thing, but due to a) me still only being capable of getting my hands on a German copy of The Philosopher's Stone and therefore not actually having a thing with his accent, and b) because I'm just terrible with not spelling things the way they should (sometimes I hate how obvious it is that I'm a Ravenclaw), I kind of failed at it. Though, if you guys think it was alright, I'll continue to attempt it. Who knows, maybe eventually I'll manage it properly. I thought about cutting this off right after Hagrid's Hut, but decided I might as well add the extra scene so that there could be a bit more insight on the development going on in Harry, Ron, and Draco's slowly building friendship.
> 
> Anyways, what did you guys think? Should I not have skipped Potions? Was this any good, or did it feel too much like a filler?


	5. Flying Lessons and Three-Headed Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was planning on updating this last night, but my computer refused to let me do so, so that's why this took a bit longer to get out. Also, it's the 22nd anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, so it makes sense that I'd be posting a Harry Potter fic today. Speaking of which, I am working on three other Harry Potter fics, one of which is already out and another oe I am going to try and finish the first chapter of today. If you guys are interested in reading them (the one already out is a Next Generation story about James's first (and eventually later) year at Hogwarts, I'd love to hear what you guys think of it so far! It's called The Hidden Shadow, if you want to read it. I have no idea to put a link in the notes so... yeah... Anyways... moving on...
> 
> Okay, when I started writing this I really wasn’t expecting it to actually get somewhat popular?? Like, this is now my second most read story on here and that’s second to Project Spider which is... confusingly popular on here. Thank you all so much for actually taking an interest in this story and sticking with it after the first chapter! Thank you all for subscribing and commenting and all that too! That certainly gives me confidence to continue this! Thank you!
> 
> Okay, so I absolutely despise editing, but I always do it because every time I do, I catch some mistake I made or add some new sentences. Though, because this chapter is so, so long, I didn’t try all too hard with editing this, so if it’s a bit... fast paced or jumpy or whatever, I’m sorry.
> 
> Anyways, this is pretty much a just rewritten version of the chapter “The Midnight Duel”, except well... Draco isn’t challenging them to a duel, so it’s a big different I suppose. Most of the events are the same though, so I’m sorry if this chapter is once again somewhat boring since you already basically know what’s going to happen... Also, this is so incredibly long, I can't even understand why I didn't split it into two different chapters, but well... you get double the amount of content in one chapter to make up for me not updating for a couple days. Anyways, I still hope you enjoy this though!

Their first flying lesson of the year was on Thursday, and of course it just had to be with the Slytherins. Just what Draco wanted, another class with his former friends, turned bullies, where they could taunt him. Not that they would be able to make fun of him for his flying abilities, due to a) the fact they did not get to really fly on their first day, and b) that he really was quite good at flying, and all of them were aware of it.

Pansy had always been terrible at quidditch, a fact she complained about on every occasion possible and everyone else found amusing. Blaise on the other hand had been one of the best Seekers Draco had ever known for as long as the blond could remember, though Draco did tend to beat him when they had played each other one on one. Vincent and Gergory, or as pretty much everyone called them despite the fact that they did have first names, Crabbe and Goyle, had also somewhat surprisingly revealed themselves to be rather good beaters the one time all of their little “group” had gotten together to play Quidditch the summer before they had all received their Hogwarts letters. Theo had never been all too sporty though, and unlike Pansy he didn’t seem to care in the slightest, he much more preferred the company of a book or parchment and quill than a broom and a ball. He had been a somewhat decent keeper when they had played, though he kept getting distracted and just in general did not enjoy being on a broom in the slightest. Draco on the other hand was rather good at being a Chaser, and a Seeker, and felt more at home while on a broom than when he was doing anything else. His parents, and his past friends, had all told him since he was eight that if he was never placed on the quidditch team for his house, which “of course will be Slytherin” as his father had told him the very first time they had talked about it, then they were going to assume someone had jinxed the system because he was too good to not have. 

As Draco wandered down to the small stretch of flat ground located right in between the castle and Forbidden Forest where their lesson would take place, all sorts of memories of playing quidditch with one or more of the five flashed through his mind. He tried his best to push them away, really not wanting to think about those that had turned their backs on him simply because of where he was sorted -though he begrudgingly had to admit had he been sorted into Slytherin and one of his other friends had ended up in Gryffindor, he likely would have shunned them as well-. His efforts were rather fruitless however, and things he had almost forgotten about came into his mind; how he had once fallen from his broom and broken his wrist, how Theo had once watched him and Blaise play against each other and had kept calling random ratings on how good their moves and tactics were, how Pansy had accidentally once gotten her hair tangled into the branches of a tree in his yard while attempting to fly and Draco’s mother had needed to use a spell to cut the girl’s hair to get it out. 

Draco shook his head suddenly in a final attempt to get rid of the memories and they faded into the back of his mind just as he, Harry, Ron, and the rest of the first year Gryffindors made it to where the Slytherins were all already standing beside a row of twenty neatly lined up brooms that looked as if they hadn’t had a good day for over fifteen years. Many of the Slytherins, including Pansy and Blaise, looked over at the Gryffindors with a mix of amused and angry expressions on their faces as the red and gold wearing eleven and twelve year olds came over and stood a good five feet away from them. Deliberately, to avoid eye-contact with those he had expected to be his housemates just two weeks prior, he turned to Harry and Ron, about to ask something completely random just to start up some kind of conversation when suddenly their flying teacher, Madam Hooch, walked down the path they had all taken and stopped in front of them. All of the students who had been talking immediately shut their mouths at the sight of the strict looking witch with sheared short silver hair and glinting yellow-gold eyes that looked like those of a falcon, even Pansy seemed to find the teacher intimidating judging by the slight widen of her eyes.

“What are you all waiting for? Everyone stand next to a broom. Come on, hurry up!” Madam Hooch snapped and immediately all of the students scrambled to get to a broom beside their friends before they were taken. The broom that Draco had decided to use looked almost worse off than the other ones lying out with its chipped and worn handle and half broken end. Had there been another one free that hadn’t been directly next to Pansy he most definitely would have taken it, even if it wasn’t next to Harry and Ron. 

“Stick your right hand out over your broom and yell ‘Up!’.” The teacher yelled over the growing noise of excited chatter as she moved to stand in front of all of them. 

“UP!” Everyone yelled and the broom at his side immediately flew up into his outstretched hand, just as Harry’s, Blaise’s, and a Gryffindor girl by the name of Amante’s did. A small smirk of triumph spread across his lips and he looked over at the raven-haired boy next to him, intending to say something probably a bit arrogant. A look of clear shock was written on his face as he stared down at the broom which was gripped tightly in his hand and Draco couldn’t help but snort with laughter at the expression, his previous comment forgotten.

This seemed to pull the other boy out of his stupor and he looked over the blond in confusion, his green eyes shining and his dark eyebrows furrowed. “What?” He demanded, but Draco simply shook his head, suddenly blanking a bit on what to say. 

“Nothing, Potter. Your expressions are just rather amusing.” Harry blinked at him, about to say something in reply to that, only to be interrupted by Madam Hooch who yelled at them all to pay attention to what she was saying and then proceeded to explain to them all how to get their brooms without sliding off the end.

Draco, who had done this so many times that it felt instinctual to get on his broom and grip it tightly, quickly followed her instructions, watching as she walked down the line of first years and told each of them how to fix their posture. It took her a good two minutes to reach him due to how close to the middle of the line he was and when she did, he was very strongly hoping she would compliment him, just so that the Slytherins, even Pansy, would stop smirking at him as if they were ten times better than he was. 

“Mr Malfoy,” she said and immediately he could tell from the tone she used that he wouldn’t be getting his wish. “You’re gripping the handle wrong, you have to hold it like this.” Draco felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as the teacher mimicked how he should have been holding the broom his entire life, but had not. Snickers broke out from the Slytherins and a few Gryffindors, including Ron, as he adjusted his grip and Madam Hooch nodded her approval before walking by Harry and nodding as well without a word. Draco averted his eyes from everyone else’s, hating how embarrassed he felt for such a simple mistake as having his hands in a slightly incorrect position.

“Not as good as you thought, eh, bloodtraitor?” Pansy called, a smirk spread sinisterly across her face and Draco glared slightly at her out of the corners of his eyes, yet he didn’t say anything in retort, not when the teacher was standing right there.

“Ms Parkinson! That is two points from Slytherin, I won’t have any of such name callings take place in my class.” Madam Hooch snapped at the girl, whose eyes widened and she mumbled a quick apology when the teacher gave her a stern look. The silver-haired witch seemed satisfied enough with that and turned back to the girl with bushy hair who was standing next to Ron to help her. 

“Can’t believe she only took two points for that.” Ron whispered in Harry and Draco’s direction once their teacher was out of earshot, a scowl tugging at his lips. “Snape took two points just because Harry didn’t know the answer to a question in his first class and he didn’t tell Neville not to do something, even though they weren’t even working together! From the way Percy always talked about punishments here I would have thought she’d have gotten at least five points taken away or gotten a detention for saying what she did.” Draco looked at the redhead in surprise, he sounded so angry about the lack of punishment Pansy was getting, despite the fact that she had been speaking to the blond and not him. Ever since the two of them had met, both had acted as if they hated each other, yet Ron didn’t sound like he had any dislike for Draco at the moment, and sounded as if someone had insulted one of his many siblings and not the young Malfoy he had grown up to hate.

“Yeah, in muggle school she probably would’ve gotten written up for saying something like that so openly and loudly.” Draco’s surprised gaze moved over to Harry and he simply stared at him for a moment before beginning to respond, only to be interrupted by Madam Hooch again. 

“Now pay attention. When I whistle, you’re going to push off from the ground with as much strength as you can. Hold your broomsticks straight, fly up a few meters and then come right back down by leaning forward slightly. At my whistle - three - two -” 

Madam Hooch broke off abruptly as Neville Longbottom, one of the other boys in Gryffindor who he could remember having heard a bit about from his parents before his time at school, pushed off from the ground with as much strength as he could. He was a pureblood, Draco remembered, his family was one of the sacred 28 after-all, and something to do with Draco’s aunt had made it so that he was taken from his parents and given to his grandmother, or at least, that’s what he had managed to understand.

“Come back, boy!” Madam Hooch yelled, her whistle hanging forgotten around her neck and she glared up at the brunet boy who had shot up high into the sky. Up, up, up he went until he was at least fifteen feet above the ground. Even from so far away Draco could see that his face had turned deathly pale and that his eyes were as wide as saucers, until they fell shut that is and he tipped to the side off of his broom.

He hit the grass face-first with a loud thud and a sickening crack, his dark robes seeming to pool and wrap around him at the same time in a weird, jumbled pile. Draco felt his own eyes widen at the sight of his dorm mate lying in the ground and quickly averted his eyes towards the sky just in time to see Neville’s broom zoom off into the forest, never to be seen again. “Broken wrist..” Draco just barely heard Madam Hooch murmur under her breath and he looked back to see the teacher kneeling besides Neville, a worried expression on her pale face. “C’mon, boy, it’s alright, up you go. 

“Nobody moves while I bring this boy to the Hospital Wing! You leave the brooms where they are, or you’ll be out of Hogwarts quicker than you can say ‘Quidditch’! Come, dear.” Madam Hooch walked Neville, who had tears streaming down in his face, back towards the castle, leaving the rest of the first years standing there without anybody to make sure they followed the rules or were nice to each other.  _ Great… Just great. I bet it won’t even take 30 seconds for someone to do something. _ Draco thought and, sure enough, just fifteen seconds afterwards the voice of Blaise Zabini spoke out from a group of snickering Slytherins.

“That was pathetic! How’d that idiot even get in here? Can’t even fly a broom! And did you see the look on his face? How didn’t that wimp end up in Hufflepuff with all the rest of them?” He let out a bark of laughter, and even though Draco didn’t really care all too much for Neville, he still felt a rush of anger towards his old friend because that was his  _ housemate _ he was talking about, and people didn’t insult the people he now basically had to, in a way, call family. He had nobody else after-all. His father had told him he was no longer part of the family, and he didn’t have anyone beside his parents and those who used to be his friends. Those in his dorm really had, as McGonnagall had said they would, become his new family, in a way, even if he didn’t necessarily even like some of them.

Draco opened his mouth to snap at Blaise to shut up, and leave Neville alone, but Parvati Patil, the twin who had been sorted into Gryffindor, beat him to it. “Shut up, Zabini!” Her voice had a dangerous, angry edge to it that made Draco glad he wasn’t the one she was facing with her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“Oh, standing up for the lameass, are you?” Pansy suddenly jumped in and Draco felt his own fists clench at his sides as she laughed in malicious amusement. “Have to be honest, Patil, I didn’t think you were the type to like fat, crybaby losers like him.” Draco took a step forward at the same time as Blaise knelt down a few feet from where Neville had fallen and grabbed something round that glistened like water in the bright afternoon sunlight. Neville’s remembrall.

“Oh, look what little Longbottom lost when he hurt his dear, dear arm falling from his broom.” Blaise laughed in amusement, his laugh sounding almost like a cackle as he smirked at the small glass ball in his hand, bringing it up in front of his face to inspect it better in the light. 

“Hand it over, Blaise.” Draco said at the same time as Harry said, “Give it here, Zabini.” Draco’s voice sounded eerily calm in a way that reminded him of his father when he was angry, causing the blond to repress a shudder at himself. No, he wasn’t going to end up like his father. He wasn’t his father. It took Draco a moment to realize that all of the other first years had gone silent as he and Harry spoke at the same time, saying practically the same thing.

“No, I don’t think I will. I think I’ll find some place to put this where the idiot can have some fun getting it and show us his  _ Gryffindor pride _ at the same time. How about up in a bird’s nest?” Blaise’s smirk grew and Draco couldn't help but question how he could have ever been friends with the boy.  _ He wasn’t like this before Hogwarts. _ Draco told himself, except maybe that wasn’t true, maybe all of them had, they just never did anything because they had nobody but each other to taunt and it was all meant more as meaningless teasing between them. 

“Hand it over!” Draco yelled at the same time as Harry again, and despite the situation the blond couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at the other boy to see if he thought it was strange. The raven-haired boy’s face however showed nothing besides anger that was aimed at Blaise in a death glare.

“No.” The Slytherin said and swung himself onto his broom, launching himself into the air with the same grace he had a month ago, the last time he and Draco had played Quidditch together. Within seconds he was already hovering just above the tallest branches of an oak tree nearby. “Come and get it if you want it so bad, you two!” He called down in a teasing voice as he tossed the ball up a good foot and easily caught it again.

Draco growled slightly and reached towards his own broom, beginning to mount it, only to be stopped by Harry who looked up at Blaise for a moment, fire blazing behind his emerald iris as he grabbed Draco’s arm. “I’m doing this, you stay here.” His voice sounded clipped and quite angry as he said that and then he mounted his broom, pushing off the ground with surprising skill for someone who had never flown before. 

“No!” The bushy haired girl, Hermione, from Gryffindor yelled suddenly, and Draco looked over at her. Her cheeks were flushed with color, her brown eyes narrowed to slits and her slender hands clenched so tightly into fists that her knuckles looked as if they were poking out of her skin. “Madam Hooch said we aren’t allowed to move - you’ll just get us all into trouble!” 

Harry didn’t seem to fully hear her however, either that or he just didn’t care, because he flew right up to level with Blaise. A small scowl tugged at Draco’s lips and he glared up at his childhood friend. If anyone else got hurt or in trouble it would be Blaise’s fault. Hermione and Draco seemed to be the only Gryffindors who thought Harry really was just going to get in trouble however. Yells and gasps of awe broke out around Draco and if someone who wasn’t down here hadn’t known something was happening down here, they certainly did now because the other first years were  _ loud _ .

Up above, in the air, Harry and Blaise were speaking, though they were so high up and the wind had picked up just enough that Draco couldn’t make out a word they were saying. All he could tell was that Blaise looked amused and seemed to be sizing Harry up in a way, only for his eyes to widen when Harry suddenly shot forward towards him. He easily moved out of the way, though the amused grin on his face had morphed into a scowl as he glared at Harry. Said Gryffindor spun sharply around on his broom as if he had been flying for years and a few people suddenly began clapping slightly around Draco, causing him to roll his eyes in disbelief and annoyance. Harry yelled something at Blaise who scoffed and rolled his eyes as he said something before suddenly throwing the little glass ball in his hand high up into the air for seemingly no reason. The Slytherin boy then sped back down to the ground, landing in a -though Draco hated admitting it now- rather elegant fashion in the middle of the Slytherins.

For a split second Draco thought Harry was going to follow Blaise’s example and just fly back down, however instead of doing this he leaned so far forward on his broom that it tipped forward completely and he flew straight down, gaining speed the closer he got to the ground. The claps and awed gasps were replaced by screaming as Harry raced for the ground in a steep fall, his hand outstretched in front of him as if to… as if to grab something. It hit Draco then what the boy was doing and he found himself gaping in complete disbelief at the nerve and confidence the other boy had to think he could possibly catch something when it was falling like that. 

The next thing that happened seemed to happen in slow motion. Harry’s hand wrapped around the remembrall just a couple feet above the ground and he pulled his broom up sharply to straighten out before he crashed into the earth. Somehow, in a way that should have technically been impossible, the broom followed his movement and just a second later the boy was landing softly on the grass and striding towards the Gryffindors as if he hadn’t been in the air in the first place. Nobody, not even Blaise, could pull something like that off, nobody. How could Harry possibly be such a good flier?!

“HARRY POTTER!” The voice of Minerva Mcgonagall suddenly rang out through the grounds and Draco spun around. His head of house was striding towards them, looking firmly out of it as she stalked towards Harry. There was no way this could possibly end well.

  
  


“Wait, you’re joking right? McGonagall didn’t just drag you off to make you Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, no way.” Draco yelled an hour and a half later when Harry showed up at dinner, a slightly dazed look on his face as he sat down and explained to them what had just happened. Harry immediately shushed him, glancing around at the other house tables as he did so. 

“Wood wants to keep it a secret, surprise Slytherin during the first match.” Harry explained and Ron wolf whistled quietly. 

“You’re being used as a secret weapon, mate. That’s bloody brilliant! McGonagall must’ve seen the entire dive if she thought you were good enough for that, first years never even get onto the team. You’ve got to be the youngest player...” The redhead said only to have his sentence finished by Harry.

“In a hundred years, yeah, Wood told me. My training starts next week, I don't know how we’ll hide it from the rest of the school. There always seems to be someone looking at me. It’s a bit… creepy actually.” 

Harry glanced over his shoulder at that, frowning slightly when he spotted a Hufflepuff boy staring at him from across the hall. Just as he looked back at Ron and Draco, Fred and George marched into the Great Hall and headed straight for the three of them, grinning widely.

“Good job.” George said to Harry in a voice so quiet that Draco could just barely hear it over the noise of the other students. 

“Wood just told us. We’re totally going to win the cup this year!” Fred slid onto the bench on Harry’s other side and leaned closer to Harry and the other two boys and his twin.

“Wood told you about the little task that all of the Gryffindors have to do to get into the team, right?” He said and he and George both grinned at Harry, whose eyes widened in surprise and confusion. 

“No? What are you talking about?” He demanded and the twins both glanced at each other, their grins growing. 

“To officially become part of the team you have to sneak into the trophy room and steal something,” Fred explained and Harry’s eyes widened in surprise.

“At  _ night _ .” George added and the raven-haired first year gulped slightly, looking uncertain. 

“Really? Why?” Draco asked just as Harry opened his mouth to most likely ask the same thing. 

“We’re Gryffindors, Malfoy. It’s so you can prove you’re brave and tough and stuff.” Fred answered before his twin could and then smirked slightly at Harry, glancing back at Draco for a brief second when he scoffed. 

“How did I end up here of all houses?” He mumbled under his breath and shook his head slightly, feeling exasperated. 

“We recommend going around midnight or so, that part of the castle’s usually empty that part of the night. Good luck.” George told Harry and then both of the Weasley twins stood up, simultaneously patted him on the shoulder and moved to sit down with their friend Lee Jordan at the opposite end of the table, still grinning. 

“Bloody hell... “ Ron mumbled, looking after them for a moment before facing the raven-haired boy again. “I’m coming with you.” He then told Harry firmly, who looked up at him in shock, and more than a little confusion. 

“Me too, just to keep you idiots out of trouble though.” Draco quickly added before The Boy Who Lived could respond, causing him to gawk even more.

“But what if we get caught?” He asked quietly and Draco shrugged.

“We tell them we got locked out of the tower and were trying to find a professor to help, but ended up lost. But we won’t get caught if we’re careful, which we will be.” The blond said without a moment’s thought. 

“I... okay. Midnight tonight, just to get this over with.” Harry said, sounding slightly defeated as he sighed. None of the three of them noticed Hermione Granger scowling at them, nor did any of them know she had overheard their entire conversation with Fred and George and planned to stop them from doing anything.

  
  
  


“It’s a quarter to twelve, we should leave.” Ron muttered in a low voice just as Draco had begun to doze off, despite his efforts to stay awake by reading a book about Merlin. He threw his blankets off of himself and quietly ripped the curtains around his bed open, immediately pulling them shut again behind him as he stood up so nobody would notice his bed’s lack of occupant were they to wake up and look in his direction. Harry and Ron had both grabbed their bathrobes and slipped them on over their pajamas when they got up and Draco followed their example, wandering quietly down the steps to the Gryffindor Common Room with them.

There were no older students still up and doing homework, so the room was almost completely shrouded in darkness and shadows when they entered. The only source of light was the pale moonlight shining in through the windows and the few dying embers in the fireplace. Despite the fact that Draco had slowly become used to this room over the past two weeks, it’s usual familiar, warm,  _ safe  _ feeling seemed to have diminished and was replaced by an eeriness that unsettled the blond and made him quicken his pace towards the portrait hole, wanting to get out of the room with its looming armchairs. 

“I honestly can’t believe that you’re actually doing this, Harry.” Just before the three of them made it to the exit of Gryffindor Tower, a voice suddenly called out to them with a tone of disbelief. All three boys froze in place immediately and Draco slowly turned to see Hermione Granger, sitting in an armchair wearing a dark pink bathrobe, a lamp now turned on beside her. The soft, slightly flickering, orange light illuminated her face and the concerned crease between her eyebrows looking like a streak of obsidian black paint against her deep, rich brown skin. Her chocolate brown eyes glinted angrily at them as she stood up, her bathrobe swirling around her ankles and partially wrapping around them, and her hair bounced slightly at her shoulders. She took a step closer to the three other first years and Draco realized in that moment that she was a good inch taller than him and at least four taller than Harry, while Ron towered over all of them with his tall and lanky stature.

“ _ You! _ ” Ron snapped angrily, and Draco flinched slightly at his tone. What had she done to make him so angry? “Go back to bed!” Ron’s words didn’t seem to affect the girl at all, and she simply continued on with her small little rant. 

“I almost told your brother, Percy. He’s a Prefect, he really wouldn’t have allowed any of this.” Her voice seemed to be speeding up with each word she spoke, and by the end of those two sentences she was slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed as she glared at the redhead, who in turn simply scoffed. 

“My brothers are the ones who told Harry to do it so we’re going with him to help!” 

Hermione rolled her eyes and her exasperated sigh sounded a tad bit dramatic as she crossed her arms over her chest.  _ Why does any of this matter to her anyways? It’s not like she’d get in trouble if we got caught!  _ Draco thought and couldn’t help but give her a confused and annoyed look as Ron pushed passed her and headed towards the Portrait hole again, all three of the other first years following him out. Hermione looked so angry, that were smoke to start coming off her hair and out her ears, Draco wouldn’t have been all too surprised. 

“You don’t care about Gryffindor at all, just about yourselves. Well, I don’t want Slytherin to win the house cup this year and I do not want you three to lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall because I knew everything about Transfiguration spells.” She growled and for a moment Draco was reminded of a lion, which seemed rather fitting in the situation considering she was defending Gryffindor, the mascot of which was a lion. 

“Go away.” Ron snapped and somehow the brunette seemed to get even angrier than she already was, though she also seemed to give up her attempts to stop them from leaving. 

“Fine, but I warn you, you’ll remember what I said when all of you are on the train home tomorrow, you are such -” Hermione froze and broke off mid sentence when she turned around to storm back inside the Common Room and leave them outside to do what they pleased. The Fat Lady had left her frame and wandered off somewhere else in the castle sometime during the night, trapping them all outside. There was no way to get back inside the tower now, without her there to open the entrance for them. 

“What am I supposed to do now?!” She shrieked and spun around to face the three of them again. All anger had disappeared from her face and was replaced by complete and utter panic. Her eyes were wide and terror filled, while her face, which had previously been flushed with anger, was pale.

“That’s your problem.” Draco said, finally saying something, even though he felt a bit bad for the girl who looked as if she was facing some deadly monster that was about to rip her to shreds. “We have to go, otherwise we might miss our chance of being there when Filch is patrolling the other side of the castle, and then we really will get caught.”

With that Draco turned away from her and began walking off down the corridor with Ron and Harry, only to hear footsteps rushing toward them from behind. “I’m coming with.” Hermione said and out of the corners of his eyes Draco noticed that the fear on her face had once again disappeared. She now looked determined, though what exactly she felt determined to do, the blond had no idea.

“You will  _ not _ .” Ron insisted, glaring daggers at his fellow Gryffindor as he said it. Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance and continued walking, he really couldn’t care less if someone else came with, though he did have to admit that they had a higher chance of getting caught with four people instead of three. 

“You think, I’m just going to wait out here until Filch catches me? If he gets all four of us, I’ll just tell him the truth: that I was trying to stop you, and you can confirm it.” Hermione said in response, her determined expression not leaving her face. Draco looked over at her in annoyance again, seriously, what was this girl’s problem? Couldn’t she just leave them alone, or at least let them do what they had snuck out to do in the first place?

“You have some nerve -” Ron started only to be cut off abruptly by Draco who suddenly clamped his hand over his mouth, just at the same time as Harry hissed at all of them to be quiet. 

“I hear something.” He said, and the same sound Draco had heard that had made him shut Ron up came again. It sounded like a sniffle, as if there was some kind of animal, or other living thing, around the corner.

Ron tried to say something from behind Draco’s hand and when all the blond did in response was glare at him, he stuck his tongue out and licked the palm of his hand. “Ugh!” Draco yelped and yanked his right hand away, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he frantically wiped the saliva off onto his bathrobe. The redhead himself looked disgusted, though also slightly smug as he turned away from the young Malfoy, who continued to attempt to get every last bit of evidence off his hand. 

“You think it’s Mrs. Norris?” Ron whispered to Harry before leaning around the corner to see if he could spot anything. Sure enough, despite the almost pitch blackness of the corridor, the form of a small, brown haired boy was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, illuminated by soft, silver moonlight. The redhead’s shoulders immediately relaxed and he started towards their fellow student, who turned out to be Neville upon closer inspection.

The Gryffindor startled awake as the small group of first years approached him and after the brief look of panic on his face, he looked at them as if they had just saved his life. “Oh thank God, you guys found me! I’ve been out here for hours. I forgot the password and she didn’t let me in.” He exclaimed loudly and Draco resisted the urge to clamp his hand over the boy’s mouth as he had done with Ron. He really didn’t want to have someone else lick him.

“Speak quieter, Neville. Or we’ll get caught.” He hissed and was about to continue, only to be cut off by Ron, who beat him at saying what he had meant to. “The password’s ‘Pig Snout’, but that won’t help you much seeing as the Fat Lady ran off.” Neville’s eyes widened slightly at that, but he still nodded his thanks.

“How’s your arm?” Harry piped up from beside Draco and Neville moved his gaze from Ron to him. 

“All better again. Madam Pomfrey fixed it really quick, it barely took a minute.” he replied to the raven-haired boy’s question and lifted his previously injured right arm, which showed so signs of its previous broken bone.

“Good, now, listen, Neville, we have to keep going, we’ll see you later -” Harry said and started to walk away from his dorm mate, only to stop again when the other boy called out after him, ignoring what Draco had told him just moments before. 

“Don’t leave me here alone!” The boy scrambled to his feet and stepped away from the wall he had been sleeping against. “I don’t want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron already passed by twice.”

Ron looked down at the watch he had on his wrist and then glared up at Hermione and Neville in a way that made Draco seriously glad the redhead wasn’t currently angry with him. He may not normally seem intimidating, but when he was angry he was honestly quite fear-inducing. “If we get caught because of you, don’t doubt that I’ll learn how to use that Curse of the Bogies Quirrel told us about and put it on you.”

Draco couldn’t stop himself from snorting as Hermione opened her mouth to most likely explain to Ron how the spell worked. If Ron could manage to perform that spell with the wand he had, Draco wasn’t sure he would know what to believe anymore. From what he had seen, Ron’s wand was slightly broken and definitely second-hand, making it practically impossible to cast any spell properly. 

Before anyone else could speak, Harry shushed all of them and waved his hand at them to continue their trek to the trophy room. Fred and George seemed to have been right about Filch being on patrol at the other side of the school, seeing as they didn’t so much as hear a single door falling shut or a voice saying something besides Harry’s quiet instructions on which ways to turn to reach their destination. Draco hesitated at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the third floor, and looked nervously up it into the dark corridors beyond it. At the beginning of the year the headmaster had warned all of the students not to go up there, to avoid the right wing of the third floor unless they “wanted to suffer a very painful death”.  _ The Trophy Room’s in the left wing. _ Draco told himself and surged up the stairs after the others, running to catch up with them. 

The trophy Room was only the third door down the left corridor and was, to Draco’s surprise, unlocked. The walls were lined with crystal display cases, their polished surfaces glinting in the silver moonlight falling in through the few windows the room had. Centuries worth of cups, plaques, shields, swords, statues and other awards stood on the shelves and the few pillars standing around in the middle of the floor. The trophies themselves seemed to shine in the light, some of the cups looked as if they had a glowing potion in them, even though they were empty, due to the way the light was reflecting off of them. 

A small little plaque that stood in a case directly next to the room’s wooden door caught Draco’s eye as he and the other four Gryffindors walked into the room. It was made of glinting silver and was in the shape of a shield about the size of his palm. On it was a name, a Hogwarts house, and a date.

_ Andromeda Black; Slytherin, May 15th, 1966. _

Draco froze in place and turned to face it completely, his eyes widening a bit in surprise. What had his aunt done to receive an award? From what he knew his aunt had been terrible, a bloodtraitor who terrorized everyone. Then again, he had heard all of that from his parents, and he had begun to realize over the past few weeks just how wrong they had been about a lot of things.

Without fully comprehending what he was doing, Draco stepped towards the glass case and slowly opened it. “Malfoy!” Ron hissed and said blond looked over at him for a brief second before returning his gaze to the award and hesitantly reaching forward to pick it up. “What are you doing?!” Draco didn’t answer and just carefully wrapped his fingers around the small silver award and took it off the shelf, looking at it closer with his head tilted slightly to the side. He knew he probably looked rather peculiar to the other people in the room, studying an award that didn’t appear to have anything to do with him, and looking so confused and curious about it at that. However, despite this, Draco really couldn’t bring himself to care how he looked at that moment. When the front of the award gave no sign as to its reason, even after he had looked at all of it for any fine print, he carefully turned it over in his hand and looked at its back.

  
  


_ Award for Good Service _

_ Given due to student having saved another from torture by means of a Cruciatus Curse cast by another student. _

For a few seconds all he could do was stare at the small words inscribed on the back of the palm-sized silver shield, not completely comprehending the meaning behind them at first. She saved someone from the Cruciatus Curse… the  _ unforgivable torture _ curse, which was and still is illegal. His aunt had saved someone while still attending Hogwarts, while she was still a  _ kid _ , why would his mother tell him she was a bad person?

“Malfoy!” This time it was Hermione speaking and he finally snapped out of his shocked daze, looking over at her in surprise. 

“What?” He demanded and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head as if he was the most insufferable person she had ever met. Perhaps she thought he was. 

“We’ve been saying your name for the past five minutes!” Harry said and Draco blinked, his silvery grey eyes becoming a bit clouded with confusion. 

“You have?” He asked, feeling a bit disoriented and stupid when his voice came out quiet and a bit weak. 

“Yeah, we need to get out of here again, Harry did what we-” Ron’s voice broke off abruptly and Draco looked over at him in confusion, only to see that his blue eyes were wide with fright. 

“Wha-?” Hermione began to ask only to have Draco clamp his hand over her mouth as he had done with Ron before when he too heard the footsteps coming up the staircase nearby. 

“Shhh!” He hissed and slipped his aunt’s award into his robe-pocket without really thinking about why he wanted it. Draco had never even met his aunt, had never even learned what she had done over the past decade. Was she married? Did he have any cousins he didn’t know about? If he tried to contact her, would he even succeed? Would she even know who he was if he sent her an owl?

Hermione looked as if she were about to grab his hand and shove it away from her face so that she could freely protest being so blatantly stopped from speaking, but the brunette froze when the door to the room next door was opened with a loud  _ Clunk! _

“Filch.” Harry mouthed in Draco’ s direction and said Gryffindor nodded in agreement, moving his right index-finger to his lips to signal for them all to stay quiet as he slowly lowered his hand from Hermione’s mouth. She glared at him for a moment before slipping her wand out of her pocket and frowning in the direction of the door they had come in through. 

“Sniff around a bit, my sweet. Maybe they’re hiding in a corner.” The voice of Hogwarts’s caretaker, Filch, drifted through the walls separating them from him and Neville visibly gulped, looking as if he was suppressing a whimper of fear. Draco looked around the room, knowing that if Filch were to come into the room he would very quickly find them, no matter where in the room they attempted to hide. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Harry frantically looking around him, most likely for an escape as well, and then began to wave his hands around a bit, obviously trying to get their attention. 

Draco looked over at him and then the raven-haired boy started towards the door leading out the other end of the room. After just a moment’s hesitation they all quickly followed him, just barely making it out before they heard Filch enter the room, and begin searching for them there as he mumbled to himself. How did he know they were there? Surely the Weasley Twins hadn’t told him, so who did? One of the ghosts? A different Gryffindor who had overheard like Hermione? Someone from a different house?

“This way!” Harry mouthed and motioned for them all to follow him down a corridor which was lined with suits of armor. None of them ran, that would definitely be audible from within the Trophy room, they all just walked as quickly and softly as they could, praying to Merlin that they wouldn’t get caught. Suddenly, just as Draco thought they might actually have put enough distance between themselves and Filch that he wouldn’t hear them, Neville finally let out the terrified whimper he had been holding in and began to run. He only made it a few steps however before he tripped over his own feet and crashed into Ron, sending them both falling into a suit of armor. It broke apart beneath their combined weight and clattered to the stone floor all around them, the sound echoing through-out the corridor, bouncing off the walls and back at them. If Filch, or the rest of the school for that matter, hadn’t heard them before, they certainly did now.

“RUN!” Harry yelled and they all took off, Harry and Draco pausing for a brief second to pull Ron and Neville to their feet. None of them looked back as they raced down the corridors, too scared they would run into something or slow down if they did. Harry led the five of them through different archways, corridors and up small staircases, though every turn they took seemed completely random. Eventually, after at least five minutes of running at full speed, they reached a tapestry and Ron pulled it aside to reveal a secret passageway that led them all the way to the corridor where their Charms class took place.

They slowed their pace slightly until they were just walking quickly, knowing they were basically miles away from the trophy room, and there was no way Filch could have followed them or would find them very quickly. 

“Think we lost him…” Harry gasped out as he leaned against a wall, wiping the sweat exhaustedly from his face and briefly taking off his glasses to wide them off on his robes and get the sweat off the bridge of his nose. Draco followed his example and leaned back against the wall next to him, running a hand through his for-once-not-gelled platinum blond hair as he let his eyes briefly fall shut. 

“I - _ told _ \- you.” Hermione said, out of breath, and Draco opened his eyes again to look at her. Her hair framed her face in sweat soaked dark ringlets, her cheeks were flushed with adrenaline and she was gripping his side tightly, where she most likely had a stitch from the unusual amount of running she had just done. “I - told - you so.” She repeated as she glared at them, fire seeming to burn behind her dark irises.

“We need to get back to Gryffindor Tower, as fast as possible.” Ron said, ignoring Hermione’s insistent “I told you we’d get caught”s, as he looked back the way they’d come as if to see if he could tell how far away the school’s caretaker was. 

“Someone must have told on you, someone must have overheard like me what you were doing. I bet you it was that Parkinson girl and her friends, they were walking by when the twins told you.” Hermione said and Harry nodded ever so slightly, though whether it was in response to what Ron had said, or her, Draco had no clue. 

“Or it could have been one of the ghosts, we probably passed at least one on our way to the Trophy room.” The blond suggested but Ron shook his head, not looking all too happy about agreeing with Hermione.

“It was definitely the Slytherins. I saw them walk by slowly and look at us before walking away with these big smirks on their faces.” 

Even though Draco really didn’t want to believe his old friends would do something like that to him, get him caught and in trouble, he had to admit it probably was the truth.  _ You’re just a bloodtraitor to them now, nothing but scum they can squash beneath their shoes. _ A voice told him in his mind and Draco frantically pushed it back, now really wasn’t the time to start thinking about that again.

“Let’s go.” Harry said a few moments later and they all began to walk back towards where Gryffindor Tower was, only to all freeze in place just seconds later when a classroom door swung open and Peeves, the school’s residential Poltergeist, flew out. This wasn’t going to end well, they weren’t any less screwed now than they were before, Draco realized, when Peeves let out a high-pitched, excited giggle at the sight of them.

“Keep quiet, Peeves, please, we’ll get caught and thrown out because of you.” Draco found himself saying, but Peeves just cackled in amusement at the desperate tone his voice had. 

“Strolling around the castle at Midnight, the little first-years, hmm? Tsk, tsk. Not very good, you’ll get caught.” He cackled again, the sound sending small shivers down Draco’s spine.

“Not if you don’t tell on us we won’t, Peeves, please.” Harry begged and took a small step forward as if this would make the Poltergeist feel threatened and do as he said. 

“I should really tell Filch, yes, I should.” Peeves drawled, a slightly quizzical expression on his face as if he were trying to decide what to do with the lot of them. “It’s just what’s best for you, you have to know.”

“Out of the way.” Ron snapped at him and stepped forward, attempting to throw a punch at the Poltergeist. 

Peeves didn’t seem to like this at all, and immediately began screaming at the top of his lungs: “STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED HERE IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!”

The young Gryffindors all ducked under Peeves and took off running again, only to slam into a door at the end of the dead-ended corridor, which was, just to add to their luck, locked.  _ Oh Merlin, we’re going to be expelled. We’re going to get caught and we’re going to get thrown out of the school and have our wands broken. They’re going to send me back home and my parents will hate me even more than they already do. _ Draco thought in a panic, all sound around him seeming to fade into a distant humming as his breath hitched and became slightly hysteric. 

He was finally ripped out of his terrified stupor when Hermione shoved past him, raising her wand and tapping the lock on the door in front of them as she whispered a spell under her breath: “ _ Alohomora _ .” The lock clicked and the door swung open, allowing them all to surge forward through it and slam it back shut behind them. The others all placed their ears to the door, hoping to listen in on the conversation that was bound to take place between Filch and Peeves, while Draco simply let his eyes fall shut again as he leaned back against the stone wall beside the door. He was fine, he was safe, he probably wouldn’t get caught now, they were in a room that was supposed to have a locked door, Filch wouldn’t suspect anything as long as Peeves stayed quiet. Knowing the Poltergeist, he would, just to annoy Filch. 

“He thinks the door’s locked,” Harry suddenly whispered, confirming Draco’s thoughts and allowing him to feel like he could actually breathe for the first time since they had heard Filch on the stairs. His brief moment of relief came to a rather brutal and abrupt end however, when he opened his eyes. For a second he thought he had passed out and was having a nightmare, but the scene in front of him was so vivid and terrifying, and he realized there was no way it couldn’t actually be there.

The room they had slipped into turned out to not actually be a room, but a corridor. The forbidden third floor corridor, to be more exact, and in that moment Draco finally understood what Albus Dumbledore had meant when he told them that if they didn’t want to die, they should stay away from the corridor. Standing in the middle of the Corridor, just ten or so feet away from them, was a giant beast that seemed to have jumped straight out of the story book his father used to read to him from as a young child.

A massive, three-headed dog stood in front of them, its razor sharp fangs bared at them behind three snarling lips, milk-white slobber hanging down from its mouths in strings. Draco tried desperately to push himself further back against the wall, a small whimper of fear escaping his mouth as he looked the huge monster over in terror, acknowledging the door built into the floor beneath its feet in the back of his mind but only being able to bring himself to care about the huge, two foot long claws that scraped the ground as it stepped towards them. A low, deep growl came from the thing’s throats suddenly and Draco’s head snapped up to look at its heads in complete terror, numbly trying to push his way towards the others, wanting to just get the hell out of there, even if it meant getting caught and expelled, because no matter what he had thought just moments prior, being sent home was much better than being ripped to shreds by three giant dog heads. 

Just as Draco reached Harry, said boy opened the door behind him and they all stumbled out, walking backwards, all a bit numb with terror. Filch and Peeves had both disappeared from the Charms Corridor and Draco felt a mix of fear and relief at this revelation. They were just a bunch of eleven year olds, if that thing managed to get out of the corridor now and attack them they’d stand no chance. But, the door was small enough to keep it out, and since the caretaker was gone, they wouldn’t be expelled. With this thought in his mind, Draco turned on the spot and took off in the direction he hoped Gryffindor Tower was, the other four following suit and running after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter is by far the longest in this story so far, it might even be the longest one I've ever written, now that I think about it. What did you guys think? Was this chapter a bit too long? Should I have just ended it after the Flying lesson and wrote the rest as the next chapter? What did you think about the reasoning they sneak out? Should I have just made Blaise or Pansy challenge Harry to a duel? You don't really have to answer those questions, I'm just rambling. Anyways, I'll see you guys next chapter.


	6. Stories of Old and Brooms of New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has read this, left comments and kudos, and has subscribed to this story! 
> 
> I disregarded a small amount of canon in this chapter by the way, I forgot while writing this that technically Harry didn't get his Nimbus until a week after the whole Fluffy thing, so in this he just gets it a week early and therefore his lessons start a bit earlier, I guess. Also, this is now a fourth of the way done! I'm getting through this much faster than I expected to... Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this!

“What do you think it’s guarding?” Ron asked the next morning at breakfast, ignoring the surprised looks that were being sent in the three Gryffindor boys' direction by Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini from across the Great Hall. The first year Slytherins had obviously thought that Harry, Ron, and Draco would have been thrown out of the school, or at least in serious trouble, after what they had done barely eight hours ago. However the trio was way happier than one would’ve expected given the fact that the night before they had almost died, not that anyone besides them, Hermione, and Neville knew this small detail, of course, but still.

“It could also be a who.” Draco said a bit offhandedly as he reached across the table for a piece of toast, glancing over at his two friends. That’s what they were now, actually friends, not just three people who hung around together because otherwise they had nobody else. The previous night’s events seemed to have changed something between the three of them, bringing them closer together. Ron no longer looked at him with looks of barely concealed anger when he thought Draco wasn’t looking, and said blond no longer felt the urge to hit the Weasley whenever he did or said something that was even mildly stupid or just annoying to hear for whatever reason. Harry no longer glanced at them uncertainly out of the corners of his eyes as if he were scared they would leave him, and the smile on his face that morning as they left the door wasn’t even slightly forced. 

“Why a who?” Harry asked, his emerald green eyes sparkling with confusion behind his glasses as he looked across the table at Draco. The food on his plate was practically untouched, his silverware lay unused beside his plate. A small frown tugged at the blond’s lips at that realization, the raven-haired boy opposite him looked thin and small enough as it was, he really needed to eat more than a person his age would so he could at least grow a bit. Draco quickly cut off that train of thought, feeling a bit horrified as he noticed how much like a mother he had internally sounded. 

“I… I don’t know. When I was a kid my father told me about this three-headed dog whose job it was to keep particularly dangerous witches and wizards in the prison they were kept in, and to keep those trying to get in, out. He said that three-headed dogs, or cerberuses as he called them, are always trained to protect one specific thing, which was often some kind of holding cell. Of course, I don’t know why the school would have someone dangerous locked up in it, Azkaban is made for that, but this school isn’t exactly as I originally thought so who knows what could be locked up down there. For all I know it could be some ancient magic artifact that makes you immortal or something!” A small laugh escaped his lips at the idea of something like that needing so much protection, and Draco shook his head slightly. He took a small bite of his toast as he looked up at Harry, still grinning in slight amusement despite the fact that his relatively sarcastic suggestion wasn’t technically funny at all.

The grin quickly froze and faded away when he saw the other boy’s expression however. Harry’s eyes were slightly wide, his face pale, and his mouth hung open a bit. He looked as if what Draco had said had triggered some kind of memory, or realization, in him and he was trying to process it. _What’s wrong?_ The young Gryffindor thought, about to speak but stopped short when green eyes met his own and became ever so slightly less clouded looking.

“You remember that break-in at Gringotts that I asked Hagrid about last week?” The raven-haired boy asked suddenly, looking briefly dazed as he looked at them. There was something strange in his gaze, some kind of confused glint that unsettled Draco in a way he couldn’t explain. He had never seen someone with an expression like that before, so thoughtful and confused at the same time. The closest he had probably come across was the look on his mother’s face when she had tried to understand how in the world he had managed to get all of his belongings to float up and flip upside down before sticking themselves to his ceiling long before he had started learning magic.

“Yeah?” Ron responded slowly, dragging out the _e_ as he looked at his fellow Gryffindor with a curious eyebrow raised. He seemed just as confused about the other boy’s behavior as Draco, though he didn’t look half as concerned about the look in Harry’s eyes as the blond was. _Maybe I’m just overthinking it._ His attempt at convincing himself of this was rather unsuccessful, but he still hoped it was the truth. 

“Well, you know how I said that Hagrid and I might have been there at the same time as it happened?” When Draco and Ron both nodded, he quickly continued, seemingly wanting to explain just as desperately as they wanted to hear what he had to say. “Well, we didn’t just go to my vault. We went to a different one too, one with only one single thing in it and that the goblins needed a special letter and everything to let us into it. The security for it was incredibly above what the rest of the place’s seemed to be, all just for a single small little package. What if whatever Hagrid took that day, was what’s being protected down there? What if the person who broke in was looking for it, and that’s why they have something so dangerous here in the school guarding it?” 

For a few seconds all Draco did was stare at the other boy, somewhat surprised at the sudden show of intelligence. Sure, he had known he wasn’t an idiot by any means, but still, ever since he had met Harry, he had thought of him as just a typical, reckless, act-without-thinking Gryffindor, but in that moment it struck him that Harry wasn’t that at all. Reckless, yes, that he definitely was. Who could dive with a broom twenty feet, only pulling up one or some above the ground, their first time on a broom at that, and not be considered reckless? Also, sneaking out in the middle of the night to steal something from the school the night after he had almost gotten expelled for flying when he had been told specifically not to counted as a pretty reckless thing to do as well. 

This however, this relatively well thought-through theory showed how much Harry really did think about the things happening around him. Most people likely would have brushed off the whole packet, thief, and guard dog as a coincidence, maybe some would think the dog and packet might have been connected, but few would have thought about all three. Draco hated admitting it, but he himself hadn’t even really thought about it, even though now that Harry had mentioned it, it made so much sense that the young Malfoy wanted to hit himself upside the head for his own stupidity.

“If the dog is guarding whatever Hagrid got that day, what do you think it could be?” Draco asked after a few moments of silence in their small group, partially just to end the quiet between them.

“It’s either something really valuable, or really dangerous.” Ron said, and even though he looked excited at the idea of going on some adventure, Draco couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble in the redhead’s voice. 

“Or both.” Harry said as he finally began to eat the food on his plate, though he did it slowly and as if he didn’t particularly want to. His simple statement, those completely normal two words, caused a small shudder of fear to wrack Draco’s body. There were plenty of ancient things that fit in the category of being valuable and dangerous at the same time, and none of them were ever used for good purposes. If someone got ahold of something that was being guarded so well, nothing good would come of it, Draco realized. 

After that none of them spoke for a while. The trio ate in silence, not wanting to talk about what they had seen the night before, or suspected about it, anymore. _We shouldn’t have talked about it here in the first place. People already listened in on us once and almost got us caught out of bed, what would happen if they found out we were in the one forbidden corridor in the entire castle?_ Draco thought and sighed, looking down at his plate as he poked at his food with his fork.

When he had gotten his Hogwarts letter back in early June, he hadn’t expected anything even remotely unusual to happen during his time at the wizarding school. He had expected he’d be in Slytherin, that he would go to classes every day with his friends, pass his exams every year with top marks, and then graduate so that he could go on to fulfill the plans his parents had for him. The fact that every single one of those things had seemingly been thrown out of the window barely twenty minutes after he had arrived at the castle terrified him. How could someone’s life be turned completely upside down in such a short amount of time? How was someone expected to handle that, especially with strange, dangerous things going on around them?

Draco, as per usual, was abruptly ripped out of his thoughts when the post arrived. His shoulders briefly tensed up as he bit his lower lip nervously, but when after a few minutes he didn’t catch sight of his father’s owl, the tension left him completely again. A sigh of relief escaped the blond’s lips, despite the fact that he hadn’t gotten any letters from either of his parents since the Howler he still felt terrified that he would receive another one. It was a bit silly, he knew, they had explicitly told him that they didn’t want to speak to him anymore, but still he almost hoped they didn’t mean it. 

Just as Draco was about to go back to eating his breakfast, a different owl caught his eye. Well, six owls actually, all of them barn owls like his father’s, and they were carrying a long, narrow package between them. Draco watched as the owls descended from the ceiling, wondering briefly who could possibly be receiving such a large package so early in the year, only to seconds later realize that they were flying straight towards where he, Harry, and Ron were sitting at Gryffindor table. Instinctively Draco leaned back, away from the owls as they dropped the package right in front of Harry on the table, almost knocking down at least three glasses of pumpkin juice and flipping a plate over, which caused a piece of toast to fall down onto the floor beside the Gryffindor table. The package was quickly followed by a letter, which was carried over by another owl that Draco hadn’t noticed before due to how ordinary it had seemed compared to the six owls carrying something together.

For a few moments all Harry did was stare at the huge package in front of him, obviously confused. During that time, Draco leaned forward and prodded at the brown paper wrapping, trying to figure out what it could possibly be. That didn’t take him long to find out though, the shape of it was obvious enough and after having poked it a bit and having felt the wooden handle beneath the paper, he couldn’t come up with any other plausible things it could be. It was a broom. Harry had received a broom. But he was a first year, they weren’t allowed their own brooms, right? Who had sent it? Harry certainly seemed too shocked for him to have ordered it himself.

“Open the letter first. I think it’s a broom.” Draco said, lowering his voice so that nobody besides he, Ron, and Harry could hear him. His words seemed to pull the other boy out of his momentary trance and he quickly grabbed the envelope that was lying on top of the wrapped up broom, ripping it open and quickly skimming it. Barely fifteen seconds afterwards he handed the letter over to Ron, who was sitting beside Draco, so that the two of them could read it over as well. Harry’s green eyes glinted excitedly behind his round glasses, though he looked slightly nervous as he glanced around at the other students who were looking at the package lying on the table in front of him with curiosity.

_DO NOT OPEN THE PACKAGE AT THE TABLE._

_Your new Nimbus Two-Thousand is inside it, but I don’t want the others to find out about it, because then they’ll want one as well. Oliver Wood will be expecting you for your first training session on the Quidditch Pitch at seven o’clock this evening._

_Professor M. McGonagall_

Draco’s eyebrows rose up as he read the words written in neat, even handwriting on the small piece of parchment that had been inside the envelope. A Nimbus Two-Thousand?! Even he didn’t have that new of a broom! Then again, his parents had refused to buy him a new one every time a new, better kind came out because a) it was a waste of money (Though he knew his parents really couldn’t care less about that) and b) he seemed to break them after just a few months of owning them every single time. Eventually they had given up and had told him that if he broke his current broom, a Comet Two-Sixty, they wouldn’t buy him a new one until his 13th birthday. Needles to say, he hadn’t so much as bent the twigs on the back of it, despite the fact that he was so used to finding some way to break his brooms so he could get new ones that he almost purposefully flew through his bedroom window once, instead of opening it and flying in that way. If he had done that, it really wouldn’t have been good for him. Not only would he have broken his broom, he also would have broken a window and made a huge mess of his room.

“A Nimbus Two-Thousand,” Ron’s voice beside him pulled Draco out of his thoughts and the blond looked up from the letter Harry had received from their Head of House. The redhead sounded incredibly jealous, but also awed at the same time. His blue eyes were wide, and looked like they were sparkling in the morning sunlight shining in through the ceiling-high windows, while a smile was spread across his face. “I’ve never even _touched_ one.”

Draco nodded along with what the redhead said, not really wanting to say anything because he knew whatever he would say would come off as stupid and probably selfish sounding. Ron had only just started acting like he actually thought of him as a friend, he really didn’t want to make him hate him again, or for Harry to think he was unworthy of their friendship. Which, he was, in so many ways, even though Harry didn’t seem to know it.

Before any of them said anything, or someone asked what the package was, Harry stood up from his place at Gryffindor table and grabbed the still wrapped up broom. He nodded towards the two of them to follow him and without actually looking to see if they followed him, he walked towards the doors of the Great Hall and left. Ron and Draco were quick to practically sprint after him when they finally got over the initial shock of what they would find once they opened the gift from their Transfiguration professor. Even though they knew what it was didn’t make them want to see it any less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is so much shorter than the last one, it's mainly just a filler if I'm being honest and I wasn't sure how exactly to end it, but next chapter there'll be nothing from the actual book (meaning no boring rewritten parts with barely any change in the original dialogue), it'll all be my own scenes and stuff. Andromeda will also have some importance in it, though not as much as she will later on. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed this despite its short length.


	7. Old Friendships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I have decided I am going to try and publish the last chapter of this on my birthday. Which means I'm going to try and get a chapter out every day, maybe two if I skip a day or something. I'm sure I'm going to regret challenging myself to do this, but I d feel like I might be able to do it. I have everything planned out already, so I shouldn't (hopefully) have any writer's block issues like I've had while writing other fics (take The Rising Power for example, I didn't know where exactly I was going with it, just how it ended, so I lost interest.). We're gonna see if I can do this!

It seemed like Harry had Quidditch Practice practically all the time now, and even though Ron and Draco had at least come on to speaking terms with each other, it still tended to get a bit awkward without Harry around with them. They did homework with each other (though this took quite a bit of convincing on Ron’s part and often resulted in neither of them speaking to the other for three hours straight) most days when Harry was off flying around on the Quidditch Pitch, learning techniques and the rules of the game. Why he would need so much time to learn all of that was beyond him, Draco remembered having figured it all out within a week. Surprisingly time seemed to fly by during this, and before Draco knew it, September had already ended and October was halfway over as well, meaning their school year was close to being a fourth done. 

By then he, Harry, and Ron had a sort of weekly routine, like everyone else in the school seemed to have created as well. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays Harry had practice with Oliver Wood for two hours, starting at seven and ending at nine, meaning the three of them did homework earlier than usual on those days. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends they would do homework later in the evening and then just attempt random spells they found in their textbooks (Draco was the only one that hadn’t messed up more than ten times) until they were tired enough to go up to bed. They had woken up Percy Weasley, Ron’s older brother, once and he had _not_ been happy, immediately taking three points from Gryffindor, one for each of them. Despite all of this, despite the fact that Draco had gotten closer to the two of them than he had ever gotten to Crabbe or Goyle or any of his other friends in the whole five years he had known them, he still found he needed to get away from them every once and awhile. 

He did this most often on the days where Harry had training, though usually he just sat in a corner or on his bed with the curtains pulled shut and read a book. Being around Ron sometimes just seemed like too much, being around anyone really seemed like too much on those days if he was being honest. It wasn’t a common occurrence, it had only really happened badly twice since the beginning of the year, and the first time had been because Pansy and Blaise had found it amusing to taunt him every single second they saw him that day. The second time had been on the second Friday of October, and the day had just in general been so hectic that it felt like he hadn’t been given a chance to breathe properly since he had woken up at seven in the morning, and by the end of dinner all he wanted was some peace and quiet. 

Both times he had gone to the library and had planned to stay there until the librarian, a strict older witch with graying hair and pinched features, forced him to leave. The first time, he did what he intended to and by the time he had arrived at Gryffindor Tower, Harry and Ron had already gone to bed. Even though he had somewhat wanted to speak to them by that point, he felt relieved that they wouldn’t interrogate him on why he ran off after dinner with no other explanation than “I still have homework to finish and I need a book from the library.”. The second time it happened however, he only managed to get through his Charms homework before someone decided to interrupt him. 

“Oh, look who’s sitting all alone in a dark corner of the library. Your stupid Gryffindor friends finally abandon you, did they, Bloodtraitor?” The voice of Pansy Parkinson drawled as two sets of footsteps approached his table, which was indeed in one of the corners of the school library, though it wasn’t actually dark, lamps were lit all around that area and he had one sitting on the wooden table in front of him as well. His textbooks were spread out around him, he had two bottles of different colors of ink open, a few quills were lying around and several pieces of parchment were scattered among everything else.

Instead of answering, or even so much as looking up at the dark-haired girl, Draco just continued working on his homework, having now moved onto his Transfiguration notes. He really hoped the Slytherin would just leave him alone if he ignored her, even though deep down he knew the attempt to get her to lay off by doing that would only make her angier and her insults more fierce and hurtful. If he was being honest though, Draco didn’t care what she said to him at that moment. He had gotten used to those words coming from her by then, having had to deal with them during meals, in the corridors, and some classes for the past month and a half. If she wanted to truly hurt him more than she already had she’d have to come up with something new to say.

“Don’t have a response to that, Malfoy? Or can I really even call you that anymore? Your father made it pretty clear in that Howler about what position you have in the family now. You’re no more a Malfoy than their House Elves are.” A different voice, male this time, said, and Draco could tell Blaise was smirking without even having to look up at him to see it. He calmly flipped a page in the textbook propped open in front of him, acting as if he hadn’t heard either of them, and scribbled down something on the closest piece of parchment lying on the table right in front of him.

Their words hurt, he had to be honest with himself on that. That was something they never mentioned in the corridors, or just during school and meal-times in general. They may be able to get away with calling him things like bloodtraitor, and filthy Gryffindor, or Gryffinfreak, or whatever other “creative” nicknames they could come up with during class, but saying his father had disowned him, taunting him about it, taunting him about his surname, all of that they could only ever do if they managed to corner him somewhere alone. Somewhere like the library after dinner. _I kind of brought this upon myself._ Draco thought, as he scribbled something else down on the parchment in dark blue ink. 

He was only partially aware of what he was taking notes on, his thoughts had grown too far-off and distracted over the past half hour. Their homework involved something with figuring out how to turn water to rum, that he knew, though why a first year needed to know that, and how you even actually did it, Draco had no idea. He had basically been staring blankly at the pages of the book for twenty minutes, writing down whatever seemed to stand out to him, for example: _Do not wave wand around too wildly and quickly, the water may end up exploding instead of transforming._

“Y’know, I got an owl from your mother a few days ago, she says to make sure you know how much of a disappointment you are. She told me to make sure to tell you it was her who told me to tell you.” The moment Pansy mentioned his mother, Draco looked up at her, his lips pressed tightly against each other so that he didn’t say anything, or maybe so they didn’t start trembling, he wasn’t really sure. He definitely wouldn’t give the girl the satisfaction of hurting him so much, especially in such a public place, like the library where anyone could potentially come in. For a brief moment Draco found himself hoping Hermione Granger would come in to study as she often did, just so the two opposite might leave him alone in fear of her getting a teacher, but it seemed that Friday was one of the very few the brunette had decided to stay in the tower. Harry or Ron coming it might also have done the trick, but considering how much they seemed to hate studying he doubted they even knew where exactly in the castle the library was 

Pansy’s dark eyes glinted in the flickering light of the lamps scattered around the room, her normally pale cheeks were flushed pink with excitement, and her lips were stretched into a self-satisfied and amused smirk. To think that when Draco was younger he had thought she was one of the nicest people in the world… If he could go back and snap at his younger self, tell him to stay away from those that would turn against him, he would. Maybe they would’ve left him alone if they hadn’t used to know him, or at least maybe they wouldn’t have gone after him quite as much.

“Also, considering how empty this place is, I think we could even get our points across with just our wands. I’ve learned plenty of hexes over the years from my parents, and I’ve been dying to test them out on someone.” Blaise added, leaning forward against the table Draco was at, bracing his hands against the wooden surface so that he could get closer to the blond without actually moving around to stand next to him. He was likely trying to seem intimidating, and even though the Gryffindor opposite him hated to admit it, he was succeeding.

Draco gulped slightly, feeling a bit scared of the two of them, though not because of the possible hexes and curses heading his way, but because of the trouble they would get him in for doing so. Most people in Gryffindor already hated him, and seemed to have been looking for something to get him in trouble with ever since he was sorted into the House of the Brave, if he came back to the tower that night with so much as a nose-bleed at least one or two of them would go running off to Professor McGonagall to tell her about it and get him thrown in detention for “fighting”.

“Not here, Blaise, as much as I’d love to see him suffer, we’re too exposed here, we’d be caught.” Pansy sounded impatient as she said this, like she had said it multiple times before. Maybe she had, maybe Blaise had been trying to convince her to let him hex Draco. Then again, the girl had seemed rather eager to do just that the first day of school, and only didn’t because Harry had stepped in. _Maybe that's who she’s scared of… maybe she’s scared Harry really would be able to hurt her._

“C’mon, there’s only the librarian, and she can’t take points from us or give us detention, we’ll be fine.” The Slytherin who had once been one of Draco’s best friends looked eerily menacing to the blond as he pulled his wand from the pocket hidden in his robes, and waved it around in a threatening manner, as if he were trying to scare the Gryffindor.

“Blaise, drop it, okay? Not now.” Pansy said and even though Draco knew she didn’t care about him anymore, the beg-like tone she was using made it sound as if she didn’t want to hurt him. Of course, he was fully aware that that wasn’t the case, she had been the one to originally threaten him in the first place.

“Didn’t know you still cared, Pansy.” Draco said, not exactly loudly, but definitely also not quietly, and he forced a small, somewhat arrogant smile to form on his lips as he looked up at the Slytherin in front of him.

“I _never_ cared about you. The only reason I ever hung out with you before Hogwarts was because our parents wanted to have us get married when we were of age. Nobody in your life ever really _cared_ , they just wanted to use you for your name and even then they didn’t do it willingly, they did it because they were told to. None of us ever really cared what happened to you, and that’s probably because deep down we all always knew you were just scum.” Now Draco could feel tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, and he blinked rapidly in a desperate attempt to get rid of them before they escaped and rolled down his cheeks. Those were insults he had never heard from them before, had never even imagined they would say them to him.

“You’re pathetic, you know that? You blindly listened to everything your parents told you and never stopped to wonder what you thought. You believed every lie everyone has ever told you, believed anybody could actually care about _you_.” Pansy wrinkled her nose slightly and shook her head as if she was disappointed in him. “You’re such disgraceful scum that even your own parents wish you had never been born. 

At this Draco stood up abruptly, feeling more tears sting at his eyes as he hastily swiped all of his things back into his school bag, not caring if they got messed up, only bothering to hastily close the ink bottles. He couldn’t take the insults anymore, no matter what they thought of him as he ran away he didn’t care, he only felt glad that he could escape them. Neither of them tried to stop him as he hastily shoved past them and left the library, only yelling insults after him as he raced through the Hogwarts corridors to get to Gryffindor Tower. Nobody paid him much attention as he tried his best not to run through the castle, the closest sign of someone noticing anything was the few concerned glances thrown in his direction.

“You alright, mate?” Ron asked, looking up from his parchment and frowning in concern when Draco stormed in through the Portrait Hole, trying his best to hold back the tears burning behind his eyes. His blue eyes seemed to skim over Draco as if he was trying to find out why the blond was back earlier than usual and why he had come in so quickly and abruptly.

“I’m fine, Weasley. I’m going to bed, see you in the morning.” Draco responded sharply to the redhead, trying to keep his voice from trembling. His friend finding out how weak and pathetic he truly was wasn’t something he needed right then. The blond walked briskly past the table he, Ron, and Harry had practically claimed as their own over the past month, where Ron was currently sitting and working on his transfiguration homework like Draco had been doing. The redhead quickly put down his quill however and stood up when his dorm mate, and friend, got closer, only to brush by him and head towards the winding staircase leading up to the dormitories.

“Malf… Dra-” He started, following Draco and leaving his homework abandoned on the table, ink slowly dripping from his quill’s tip onto the wood. The blond didn’t get a chance to hear the rest of what his friend had to say however, the first year boys’ dorm’s door had cut him off mid-word. The second the door was closed, Draco hastily locked it with the small key that was always stuck inside the golden keyhole and then spun around to face the room and quickly looked around to make sure he was the only one in there. Luckily for him, every bed was empty and all of the scarlet red curtains surrounding the four-posters were wide open, meaning nobody could even be hiding in them.

The instant it registered in his mind that he was finally completely alone, unlike in the corridors of Hogwarts where dozens of students had passed him as he walked as fast as possible without looking like he was running away from something, a long-repressed sob escaped him. Tears of pain and anguish rolled down his cheeks in two streams, meeting in the center of his chin and dripping salty drops down onto his robes and his collar.

_Why couldn’t I just have been sorted into Slytherin?_ Draco thought for the first time in two weeks, _Even if I didn’t fit in there, at least I wouldn’t have to deal with this every single day, at least I could pretend to belong so they would leave me alone._ Slowly, as his thoughts seemed to become louder and louder, blocking out every other sound, the eleven year old slid down the wooden surface of the door, pulling his knees up to his chest as he did so. His entire body seemed to shake and tremble as he buried his face in his knees, trying to stop the tears in his eyes from escaping but failing as they soaked his pant legs.

_I just want this all to end. I want Pansy and Blaise to leave me alone, I want… I want a parent, or at least someone like that, who cares about me… I..._ It took Draco a few minutes of sitting there, in the exact same position in front of the door, with his sobs seeming to echo through the room around him, for him to realize that maybe he did have a chance at having the last wish.

The small silver shield he had taken from the trophy room with his aunt’s name carved into it flashed through his mind and he quickly pushed himself to his feet, shakily walking over to his trunk which stood latched shut at the end of his bed. With slightly trembling hands, and tears still glistening on his pale cheeks, Draco threw it open, searching its contents for a piece of parchment and the envelopes his parents had forced him to bring with him back when they had wanted him to write them every week about what was going on at school. He found both things relatively quickly, seeing as both were in the same bottom corner, and picked them up, sitting down heavily on his bed without bothering to close the trunk again.

His leather school bag made a soft thud on the bed beside him and Draco slipped its strap off of his shoulders, letting it fall onto the bed beside the bag. The books inside it banged against each other inside it as he opened it and rummaged around, looking for a quill and ink bottle. When he couldn’t find either thing just by blindly digging around for it one-handed after attempting to for several moments, a sigh escaped his lips and he simply tipped the bag over, effectively spilling its contents all over his bed. Textbooks, scrolls, his wand, three bottles of ink, and five quills came tumbling out and onto his dark red blankets, scattering and making it difficult to adjust his sitting position without knocking something to the floor.

_How did I not find those?!_ Draco wondered in annoyance as he unscrewed the lid of one of the ink bottles he had hastily closed in the library and slowly scooted backwards until his back was leaning against his bed’s headboard. He pulled his knees up half-way to his chest and grabbed the book closest to him, propping it against them and placing his parchment on it so that he could use it as a table of sorts. Before the young Malfoy could change his mind on what he was doing, he dunked the tip of his quill into the ink and began writing in neat, somewhat loopy handwriting:

_Dear Aunt Andromeda,_

_I know we’ve never properly met, and maybe you don’t want anything to do with me because of my parents, but I thought it would just be nice to know what you’re really like, and not base my opinion off of my mother’s word._ **...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I ended that partway through the letter, I myself am terrible at writing letter of all sorts (I'm even terrible at writing birthday cards, that's kind of sad) so I just didn't try to write the whole thing. Next chapter's the troll and the Golden Quartet will finally (well, after seven chapters, I guess) be actually a quartet and not just a trio with Hermione tagging along every once in awhile!


	8. Halloween Trolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I succeeded! It's still the eighth! It's pretty late, but still, I managed to finish this before the day ended! I hope you guys enjoy this longer chapter!

Hermione seemed to almost be getting more insufferable during lessons as time went on, especially in Charms class. If anyone said so much as one syllable wrong in a spell the first time they were trying it, she would rather snobbishly tell them they were saying it completely and utterly wrong and was going to end up hexing someone into the hospital wing if they kept doing what they were doing. Halloween had by far been the worst she had ever been though, in Draco’s opinion. Maybe he just thought that because she had snapped at one of his best friends, but still, she had been so confident and delighted to know the answers to Professor Flitwick’s questions that if someone else said something wrong she would jump in, without being called on, to correct them. Their Charms teacher didn’t seem to have a very big problem with this, though the Ravenclaws, who were usually the ones who knew everything and who were the ones they shared their Charms class with, looked almost more pissed off than the Gryffindors.

They had been learning how to cast a Levitation Charm for the past week and a half, and only then, on Halloween, did Professor Flitwick actually allow them to try and cast the spell with their wands. The entire class had been separated into pairs to practice, and Draco had been paired with a Ravenclaw girl who had short, curly dark brown hair, pale skin, and eyes that didn’t seem to know if they were supposed to be grey, green, or blue and were framed with rectangular shaped black glasses. Draco vaguely recognized her from the sorting ceremony, her name was Sammy Moon, or something like that. Harry had been paired with Seamus Finnigan, who as far as Draco could tell, had no patience for this lesson at all. Ron had been put together with Hermione Granger and before they had even started waving their wands and saying spells, Draco already felt bad for his redheaded friend.

All thoughts of his friends however quickly faded into the back of his mind as soon as they were allowed to start attempting to make the feather in front of them float. “Wingardium Leviosa!” He said, swiftly swishing his wand through the air and then flicking its tip in the direction of the plush white feather. It only moved a centimeter to the side, and not even a millimetre up. Draco growled slightly in annoyance, and repeated the action, this time causing the feather to lift up about an inch, before it quickly fluttered back onto the table. How did you make it go higher? And stay up? Professor Flitwick had never shown them that, how were they supposed to know?

The Ravenclaw beside him snickered slightly but quickly stopped when he glared over at her, his silver eyes boring into her. She glanced over at him, her eyes dancing with amusement as she ran her left hand through the longer side of her hair and then picked up her own wand. She did exactly as he had done, though her slight foreign accent ever so slightly changed the way she pronounced the spell, and the feather did exactly the same as his had the first time he tried, only moving to the left instead of the right.

“Oh, well done!” Professor Flitwick’s voice cut off Moon’s next attempt at the Levitation Charm and Draco’s eyes snapped over from where he had been looking at his feather angrily to see who had succeeded in casting the spell. The sight of Hermione grinning triumphantly with an annoyed Ron sitting beside her as a feather identical to his own floated a good few feet above them met him, and he scowled slightly. “Everyone look here, Ms Granger’s got it!”

Draco simply rolled his eyes in annoyance and cast the spell himself again, hoping to achieve the same result as the brunette, but once again it just moved quickly to the side, not up into the air. He scowled down at the feather and then once again directed his scowl at the girl who sat at the table across from him. If he had thought her to be a know-it-all before, he certainly did now.

* * *

“No wonder nobody likes her!” Ron exclaimed as they left the classroom about ten minutes later, sounding annoyed. “She’s a nightmare, honestly.” Draco scoffed slightly, both wanting to tell Ron that she probably wouldn’t be all too terrible if she weren’t so stuck up, and wanting to agree with him because, yeah, she was rather insufferable.

Before Draco could even begin to decide which of those two things to say, someone shoved their way in between him and Harry, causing him to stumble slightly and miss who it was that had run into him. The blond just barely managed to catch himself on a wall before he fell completely onto the floor, and quickly straightened his posture, raising his chin slightly to act like nothing had happened. He was almost tempted to say something like “I meant to do that.”, but when he noticed nobody was really looking his way, he decided against it. 

“I think she heard you.” Harry said to Ron and Draco tilted his head to the side in confusion, looking over in the direction they were walking just in time to see Hermione disappear around a corner, her shoulders visibly shaking as she clutched her books to her chest and kept her head down. He knew that stance, and immediately felt bad for even considering agreeing with Ron on the prospect of her being a nightmare. She may be rather annoying and a know-it-all, but she was still someone with feelings that didn’t deserve to be called mean things by someone who didn’t really know her.

“So?” Ron said, though Draco could hear the slight hint of guilt lacing his voice. That was the only reason Draco didn’t hit Ron upside the head or something, even though he very much so wanted to. “She must’ve realized herself by now that she doesn’t have any friends.”

Draco rolled his eyes at this and heaved an annoyed sigh. “I wouldn’t have any friends right now if you and Potter hadn’t decided to talk to me. Maybe she simply needs the same thing to happen for her.” He said and the redhead looked over at him in bewilderment, obviously not having expected the blond of all people to stand up for Hermione. In response to that Draco just raised his eyebrows in a sort of questioning look.

“Who’d want to be friends with her?” Ron asked then, though it sounded like he intended it in a rhetorical way. 

“I would if she wasn’t so snobby about how smart and good at everything she is.” Draco said, and shrugged slightly when both Harry and Ron stared at him in shock that time. 

* * *

Hermione didn’t show up for the rest of the day, it was as if she had disappeared off the face of the earth. By the time dinner came around, Draco began to wonder if maybe someone should go off looking for her to make sure she was okay. He however quickly changed his mind when he heard Parvati Patil not exactly quietly tell Lavender Brown, both of them were girls from Draco’s house, that the other girl was sitting in the girls’ bathroom, crying, and didn’t want to be disturbed. If she had been in the library or somewhere else in the school, like an empty classroom, he likely would have gone off to talk to her because nobody deserved to be insulted and then left to cry alone, that he knew from experience.

Sighing, aware that he couldn’t go and help her, Draco turned his attention to the feast in front of him. It wasn’t that different from the beginning of the year one, though the food was somewhat more unusual and there were a lot more things with pumpkins than there had been on the first night at Hogwarts. Just as he was about to grab a bread roll and rip a piece off of it to eat, Professor Quirrell sprinted into the Great Hall, his bright purple turban ever so slightly unraveled and his face deathly pale with fright. Everyone, including the teachers, seemed to freeze and a slight hush fell over the hall as hundreds of gazes moved to stare at the terrified Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who was running up towards the teachers’ table at the very far end of the Great Hall. 

“Troll…” Professor Quirrell gasped for air, leaning forward against the wooden surface of the table right in front of Headmaster Dumbledore. “Troll - In - The - Dungeons… Thought you ought to know.” With that said, he slipped to the floor, unconscious. 

Draco’s eyes widened in terror as the teacher’s words registered in his mind, there was a  _ troll _ in the school, likely causing destruction and chaos wherever it went. The roll in his hand slipped from his grip and fell onto the table in front of him. The second it hit it with a soft thud, the students around him began screaming and jumping to their feet, wanting to escape the danger that was currently in the castle. A loud  _ BANG!  _ from Dumbledore’s wand brought everyone to a halt again, and the hall went completely silent besides a few terrified whimpers that came from the younger students.

“Prefects,” Dumbledore’s voice echoed through the room, making it sound like it was ten times louder than it was in reality. “Take your Houses back to your dormitories immediately!”

Percy Weasley quickly jumped into action after the Headmaster spoke, walking briskly to the end of Gryffindor Table and beginning to yell at all of the students sitting there. “Follow me! Stay together, First Years! There’ll be no need to be scared of the troll if you just listen to me and do as I tell you. Stay close to me. Please make room for the first years. Excuse me, I am a Prefect!”

The older redhead led all of the Gryffindors out of the hall, a girl who appeared to be in his year as well standing beside him and occasionally yelling things back at them like Percy. For some reason, the initial fear Draco had felt when he had heard about the troll had disappeared almost instantaneously. Maybe it was because he was surrounded by hundreds of people, many of which were older and could defend themselves and others if it came down to it, or maybe he just really was braver and more stupid than he thought.

“How do you think a troll got into Hogwarts?” Harry asked Draco and Ron in a quiet voice as they followed the rest of the Gryffindors up a staircase leading to the second floor.

“No idea, they’re supposed to be really dumb.” Ron said, shrugging slightly and not really sounding all too concerned about everything. Normally, Draco probably would have been extremely confused about why the redhead was so calm, but considering he himself didn’t feel scared, he didn’t question it. 

“Maybe Peeves let it in as a sort of Halloween prank. I wouldn’t put it past him.” Draco suggested, and even though he hadn’t really thought a whole bunch about that theory, it made the most sense logically.  _ Unless it’s some kind of distraction… _ Draco thought, but quickly brushed it off. Nobody, unless they were very good with trolls, would ever use one as a distraction, there was too high of a chance that they themselves would get hurt as well.

They passed random groups of students who hadn’t been in the Great Hall quite yet as they walked up staircases and down corridors, heading towards Gryffindor Tower. Suddenly, after they had passed a small group of Hufflepuff students who seemed somewhat lost, Harry grabbed hold of Draco and Ron’s arms, stopping them in their tracks. 

“Hermione, - she doesn’t know about the troll.” The raven-haired boy clarified when Draco raised an annoyed and confused eyebrow in his direction and the blond almost hit himself for having forgotten all about the girl who was sitting alone in one of the girls’ bathrooms, completely unaware of the danger she was in. If that troll happened to stumble across her, she would be completely unprepared and no matter how smart she was, she wouldn’t get out of that unscathed.

Ron bit his lip hesitantly beside Draco, looking torn between agreeing with Harry to go find their brunette housemate and following his brother to the safety of their dorms. He looked at their raven-haired friend however and all doubt seemed to slip from his face when he realized whether Ron joined him or not, Harry would go off to find Hermione.

“Fine, but we better make sure Percy doesn’t spot us.” Ron growled, his voice sounding slightly reluctant and scared despite the determined look on his face. 

“You two are going to get yourselves killed!” Draco hissed suddenly and both Ron and Harry looked over at him in surprise. Harry didn’t seem to have thought he would think twice about coming with to find Hermione because of what he had said earlier, he definitely didn’t seem to have expected that Draco would disagree in any way. Then again, neither had Draco, so maybe it was a fair assumption to have made.

“Then don’t come with us if you don’t want to. You really don’t have to.” Harry retorted, a bit of an edge to his usually soft voice and Draco couldn’t help but scoff at how the other boy had misunderstood his exclamation.

“No way, someone has to save you idiots’ asses, and I highly doubt the mud- muggleborn you were making fun of earlier is going to do that so therefore, yes, I do need to come with you.” The blond said matter-of-a-factly, silently scolding himself for nearly doing exactly what he had almost told Ron not to do earlier, insult someone even though you don’t really know them, and walked past the two other boys, heading in the direction the Hufflepuffs were going, which was in the opposite direction they had been walking with the Gryffindors. Ron and Harry quickly followed him, running slightly to catch up with him.

Once they had made it far enough away from their house to not be seen, they snuck into an empty corridor and hurried down it. Draco only vaguely remembered where the girls’ bathroom was, and he hesitated slightly at the end of the corridor, not sure whether they should turn left or right. “Um…” He bit his lower lip and was about to choose one at random when Harry simply walked past him and headed right, seeming confident in his sense of direction. Hoping his raven-haired friend was correct about where they were going, the blond followed him, only to freeze when he heard quick footsteps behind them.

“Percy!” Ron hissed and grabbed both Harry and Draco’s arms, pulling them behind a large stone statue of a griffin that Draco hadn’t noticed before. Said boy opened his mouth to protest against being roughly pulled backwards but before he could even get the beginning of a syllable out, the redhead had clamped his hand over his mouth, effectively cutting him off in a way not too unlike what Draco had done to him the night they had snuck out. Remembering what the youngest Weasley boy had done to him that day, Draco almost licked his hand just to pay him back for it. He stopped himself however when Ron lowered his hand again and simply glared at him while putting his right index finger to his lips before leaning slightly around the side of the statue.

Draco and Harry quickly followed suit and the person they saw wasn’t Percy Weasley, but the Head of Slytherin House, Severus Snape. He was walking briskly down the corridor, his black robes seeming to billow out behind him like a cape. Draco’s eyes widened at the sight of his godfather, who was walking all alone in the opposite direction of the dungeons when that was a) where the troll and all the other teachers were supposed to be, and b) where his office, and house’s dormitories were. The Hogwarts Potions Master disappeared around the corner at the end of the corridor and Draco let out a small sigh of relief, though he was still confused about what the man was even doing up there. If he had to choose between getting caught where they weren’t supposed to be by Professor Snape, and Percy, he would definitely take the latter, because at least then his parents wouldn’t be informed about it.

“What is he doing here?” Harry whispered a few seconds after the older, dark haired wizard disappeared from their sight. His green eyes shone with confusion behind his glasses and his eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration and a bit of suspicion. “Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?” 

“No idea.” Ron said simply, and shrugged as if to emphasize his point. Draco didn’t say anything in response to Harry’s question, and really, he didn’t want to think about any possible answers to it. If his godfather had anything to do with this -  _ no, he wouldn’t do something like that. _ Draco cut his own thoughts off and forced them out of his mind, focusing instead on what they were planning on doing before Severus had showed up.

“Which direction-” The young Malfoy’s question didn’t get finished however because Harry and Ron had already crept out from behind the statue and were quietly sneaking after their teacher. A small huff of annoyance left him and he quickly followed them, not completely sure why they thought whatever the Potions Master was up to was more interesting than Hermione. The three Gryffindors all snuck down the next hall, following Snape’s ever-quieter footsteps like they would lead them to wherever they needed to go to achieve their goal, which didn’t seem to be finding Hermione for them anymore. 

“He’s heading towards the third floor.” Harry said suddenly, his eyes widening as he realized this and the moment he said it the idea clicked for Draco too. Except… Why go there? There wasn’t anything interesting up there beside the Trophy Room and the forbidden left wing with the three-headed dog. There was no way he was going towards the trophy room, nobody cared about anything in there, so… once again Draco cut himself off, there was no way his godfather would go there, not unless someone had told him to.

“Why would he -” Draco’s question was interrupted by Ron, who raised his hand to silence him and whose nose was wrinkled in a look of disgust. 

“Do you guys smell something?” Draco immediately sniffed the air around him, only to make a face similar to Ron’s as the smell of old, dirty, wet socks and sewage drifted entered his nose. It was terrible, and the blond almost started coughing at the sheer strength of it. How had he not noticed it until Ron had pointed it out?

Suddenly the sound of more footsteps drifted into Draco’s ears and for a brief moment he wondered if maybe Severus had heard them and was storming back towards them to throw them all in detention for being away from their house during such a time of danger. Then he heard the grunt and noticed the slight dragging sound that came with each step, and how each step seemed to be too far apart and low for the footsteps to belong to their professor, maybe even to belong to a human.

Draco’s eyes widened in fear at the realization and he gulped when Ron nodded his head towards the left, the direction the sounds were coming from and the only visible escape besides the way Severus was going. Something huge was moving at the end of the corridor and as it passed by a tall window, moonlight framing its tall, lumpy figure, Draco knew his assumption about what it was, was correct. Usually the blond loved being right about something, usually it filled him with a small wave of self-confidence, but this time he had really been hoping he’d be wrong.

The troll was at least ten feet tall, if not more, it had grey, lumpy skin like granite, a rather lot of fat that made it look chubby in an even more terrifying way, though its head looked way too small for the rest of the body. Its legs were somewhat short, and almost as big around as tree-trunks, and its bare feet looked like they were at least as long as his lower-arm. The smell grew even stronger and more terrible as it neared and Draco almost gagged on it, only before he could even start coughing Harry grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him into the shadow of a different statue, this time that of a witch brandishing a wand proudly. Just before he was pressed against a wall by Harry to keep him out of sight, Draco saw the huge wooden club the troll was holding in its hand, dragging it along the floor beside him.

The troll lumbered down the corridor they were in and, almost as if it knew where it was going, stopped in front of a door. The big hand that wasn’t gripping the club came up and opened the door, stepping inside through it. Draco tilted his head to the side in confusion despite the fact that he was terrified. Why would the troll be going in there? Was there something of importance there? Draco froze however when he realized what the room was, it was the place they had been originally heading towards before they had spotted Severus, the girls’ bathroom. How did he know this? Well, there was a sign on the door, which was, fair enough, slightly difficult to see in the dimly lit corridor, and it still didn’t seem to have occured to Harry and Ron what it was, judging by the conversation they were having.

“The key’s still in the lock!” Harry whispered to the two other first years, somehow having realized that small detail, but missing the more obvious one. “We could lock it in there and get out of here before it broke out.”

Ron nodded to this, looking slightly nervous, and was about to say something in response when Draco cut him off. “No, we can’t lock the troll in there! Don’t you idiots realize what that room is?!” Both Harry and Ron looked over at the blond in shock and confusion, obviously not having a clue about what he meant.

An annoyed, slightly impatient sigh escaped his lips and he rolled his silver eyes, shaking his head ever so slightly. “It’s the girls’ bathroom! That very same place we were trying to find so we could warn Granger! And now she’s in there, alone, with the  _ troll _ !” His voice rose slightly in volume and he quickly forced it back down to a frantic whisper. “We need to help her, not lock her inside!” Ron and Harry’s eyes both widened almost comically, and their faces paled in fear at the revelation.

Draco pushed ahead of the two of them just as a loud, high-pitched scream echoed from inside the bathroom. He broke into a run at that and frantically, with slightly shaking hands, pushed the wooden door open, stumbling inside to find Hermione cowering in a corner against the wall, the troll slowly moving towards her, its club ripping sinks from the wall and shattering them as it went. Draco froze for a moment, livid with fright, his already pale cheeks becoming almost translucent as the blood left his face.

The door flew open again behind him and Harry and Ron came stumbling inside, effectively pulling the blond out of his daze. He looked over at the two of them and saw fear flicker across both of their faces before Harry sprung into action, seeming to know exactly what to do.

“We need to distract it!” He yelled at Ron and Draco, his voice slightly panicked, yet determined as he knelt down and picked up one of the faucets lying on the floor, having been knocked down when a sink had been smashed. The raven-haired boy chucked it as hard as he could at the troll. It hit it in the head and the tall creature froze in place, slowly turning around to face them, blinking in a slightly sluggish way.

Its club swung with it as it turned and instead of smashing sinks this time it smashed the wooden bathroom stalls, sending green-painted wood in every direction as it stalked toward them. All three of them stumbled backwards, Harry and Ron managing to get just far enough away to avoid getting hit by anything more than a few splinters and small pieces. Draco on the other hand tripped over the back hem of his robes in his haste to get away and fell hard backwards onto the marble-tiled floor. Larger pieces of wood showered down on top of him and the blond just barely managed to bring his arms up in front of his face so nothing hit him there. He tightly squeezed his silvery grey eyes shut, whimpering slightly as he felt small and large wood boards and pieces hit him, ripping his sleeves a bit and falling on top of him.

It stopped after a minute or so, but Draco stayed frozen in fright and slight pain, his arms held firmly in front of his face. He could feel a particularly large piece of wood lying over his legs, stopping him from moving around properly. Smaller pieces were balanced on top of his arms and stomach and his hair, which had become all messed up, was full of splinters. Surprisingly nothing really hurt all too bad, it just felt like he was trapped under something really heavy and couldn’t get out. Maybe he was just numb from the shock of having just been buried under a pile of wood, but it really didn’t seem like that. He could still feel everything, could still feel the strain on his arms that came with holding up so much weight so suddenly, could still feel the dull ache on his back from having fallen down, but he didn’t feel any pain caused by the wood itself. _ Either I’m just really lucky or I did some kind of accidental magic to stop myself from getting hurt. _ Draco thought and slowly opened his eyes.

The moment he did that, it seemed like his other senses came rushing back. He could smell the troll again, and sawdust, and a lot of water. He could also hear his friends yelling, and the troll grunting. 

“Draco!” Harry and Ron’s voices seemed to combine and become ten times louder than they would have been had they yelled separately.  _ Huh, _ Draco thought distantly, a bit dazed,  _ that’s the first time Ron’s ever called me by my first name. And that's the first time I’ve ever even thought of him as Ron and not Weasley. _

“Yeah?” The blond called back, not sure how he was even capable of speaking in the first place, let alone saying anything beside “Help!”. His voice trembled slightly but other than that it didn’t sound panicked, despite the fact that in reality Draco was terrified. The troll could smash him beneath the wood with its club any second, and he wouldn’t even be able to see it coming.

“Oh thank Merlin!” Ron exclaimed at the same time as Harry yelled: “Are you okay?” 

“Bit trapped, but yeah, I’m fine.” The blond said, surprised that he still felt no pain and instead found that he actually could move his arms slightly. Squeezing his eyes shut again, just in case smaller pieces fell down on his face as he did so, he moved his arms up and forwards, away from his face. The wood slid off his arms and onto the floor around him, leaving him with a few tiny pieces on his stomach and a large board over his legs, but now able to sit up. 

The troll was still standing there, though he had turned back towards Hermione and was slowly heading towards her again. Her face was even more terrified than it had been before, and her gaze was only partially directed at the troll. Every few seconds she would glance over at him with her chocolate brown eyes, as if she was making sure nothing bad had happened. 

“Hey, Peabrain!” Ron suddenly yelled, seemingly reassured that Draco was indeed okay and didn’t need help, so he decided to do something stupid. He picked up one of the pieces of wood Draco had pushed off of himself and chucked it at the troll himself, in a similar fashion to the way Harry had done it before.The troll turned away from Hermione again and started towards Ron, looking murderous in an almost strangely childish way. Harry, seeming to think the distraction was his chance to sneak past it, sprinted past the looming creature and towards the brunette girl cowering in a corner. 

Ron, seeming to realize that he had just diverted the troll’s attention from everything else beside him, visibly gulped and clumsily fumbled to get his wand out of his robe pocket. Draco in the meantime had sat up completely, shook a bit of dust and wood out of his hair, and began attempting to push the large board made of green-painted wood off of him. He was rather unsuccessful, it weighed quite a lot and from the position he was lying under it in, lifting it with his full strength was kind of difficult. 

Draco glanced up at the others, giving up his feeble attempts to free himself, and saw Harry grabbing Hermione’s arms and pulling her up into a standing position. This didn’t help much, seeing as the moment she was on her feet she pressed herself firmly against the wall she had previously been curled up against. “Run! Fast, c’mon,  _ we have to run _ !” Harry yelled but the brunette just continued to stare at the back of the troll in terror, her mouth hanging open slightly.

When she still didn’t respond after Harry yelled a second time he seemed to give up slightly, as Draco had, and turned back to face the troll himself. Ron was still having difficulty getting his wand out of his pocket, and the troll was getting closer and closer to the redhead every second. Any moment now it would be able to hit him with its club. Harry’s eyes widened in terror and anger, their emerald color seeming to become a darker shade of green as he sprinted forward in a both very brave, and incredibly idiotic, manner. He lept forwards as he ran and launched himself up onto the troll’s back, wrapping his arms around its meaty neck to keep himself up. His wand, which the Boy-Who-Lived had been gripping tightly in his hand (when he had taken it out of his robes, Draco didn’t know), stabbed up into one of the troll’s nostrils, effectively catching its attention.

A scream of pain escaped the troll’s mouth and echoed through the room, likely alerting everyone in the bathroom’s vicinity that didn’t know what was happening of the events taking place there. The troll began to blindly wave its club around itself and Harry, being the reckless Gryffindor he was, just tightened his grip on the troll’s neck. Hermione sunk back to the ground, resuming her curled up position against the wall as she stared up at Harry in complete horror. Ron finally managed to get his own wand out of his pocket and waved it through the air frantically yelling the first spell that came to his mind: “Wingardium Leviosa!”

The troll’s club slipped out of its hand just before it hit Harry and floated above its head for a brief moment before it seemed to spin of its own accord and came crashing down on the troll’s small head. The troll spun in a slow circle, dazed, and then crashed face-first onto the ground, leaving Harry lying on its back. The young wizard clambered shakily to his feet, breathing heavily as he knelt down next to the troll’s head to pull his wand out of its nose, immediately jumping backwards away from it.

“Is it… dead?” Hermione’s trembling, quiet voice rang out from the corner she was in. The fear had melted mostly from her face, and she shakily rose to her feet, steadying herself against the wall behind her. 

“No, don’t think so.” Harry said, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he wiped his wand off on the pant leg of the troll. “I think he’s just unconscious.” 

Ron, who had been standing, frozen in place with his wand still raised, seemed to rip himself out of his daze and lowered the smooth stick. His blue eyes widened in shock as they registered what he had just accomplished. Not only had he managed to defeat a troll as an  _ eleven year old _ , he had also managed the spell he had failed at so horribly before.

“Hey, um… a bit of help here might be nice!” Draco called out to them, finding his own voice and waving his arms around himself frantically to get their attention. The three other Gryffindors immediately hurried over, helping him in lifting the wood off of himself. A sigh of relief escaped his lips and just as Harry was pulling him back to his feet, the sound of a door slamming open caused them all to flinch back in fear.  _ Is there another troll we didn’t know about? _ Draco wondered briefly, but that thought flew from his mind when Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Quirrell all stormed into the bathroom. The Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher whimpered at the sight of the troll and stumbled over to one of the few remaining toilets, sitting heavily on its ceramic lid. Severus went over to the troll and knelt next to it, obviously trying to figure out what exactly had happened to it. 

Draco didn’t really pay any attention to the two male teachers however, because in that moment his Head of House turned to face Ron, Harry, and him and she looked angrier than the blond had ever seen anyone in his life. Her lips were pressed so tightly together they looked like a white line against her flushed face. Without fully intending to Draco shrunk back slightly as her glare swept over the three of them, taking in their disheveled appearances and Draco’s ripped robes with a burning fury in her gaze.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Professor McGonagall growled, the anger from her eyes even clearer in her tone of voice. Harry glanced first at Draco, and then at Ron, who was still gripping his wand tightly in his hand as if he would have to charm another troll’s club. “You’re all lucky to be alive. Why aren’t you in your dormitories like you’re supposed to?” 

Snape looked up at the three of them, and for the brief second his gaze was directed at Draco, the blond could’ve sworn he saw a flicker of concern flash through his obsidian eyes. It quickly disappeared however and was replaced with disdain as his gaze reached Harry, who immediately looked down at the ground as if it had become very interesting all of the sudden. 

Suddenly the soft, quiet voice of Hermione drifted over from the corner she had crept back into when the door slammed open, “Please, Professor McGonagall, they were looking for me.”

The Transfiguration teacher spun around to face the young girl, her eyes widening at the sight of her. She obviously had not noticed her when she came into the bathroom, and didn’t seem to have expected Hermione of all people to be mixed in with any of this. Draco too looked over at her, and wondered briefly if she would tell the professor about the insults, and the reason she had been in the bathroom. 

“Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall’s voice sounded tense, and ever so slightly confused as Hermione stepped out of the shadows, nervously twirling a strand of dark hair around her finger.

“I went after the troll, because I…” She faltered slightly, looking faintly embarrassed, and all of Draco’s assumptions about her getting them in trouble disappeared as if they had been blown away by a gust of wind. Hermione was  _ lying _ to  _ a teacher _ for them, something that even Draco wasn’t sure he would’ve done in her position. “I thought I could get rid of it on my own. Y’know, because I’d read all about trolls. If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead. Harry, Ron, and Draco defeated it while all I did was cower in a corner. They didn’t have time to get a teacher, it was trying to kill me, so they fought it. Ron managed to knock it out with its own club. ”

Harry and Ron looked shocked for a brief moment, but then like Draco they quickly recovered and put expressions on their faces that made it seem like they knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Well, if that’s how it is…” Professor McGonagall trailed off for a second and looked at all of them with an ever so slightly less angry look in her eyes. “Miss Granger, you stupid girl, how could you have thought you could defeat a mountain-troll all on your own?”

Hermione looked down at the floor with a looked of shame similar to Harry’s earlier. She was playing the part rather well, Draco had to admit, for someone who seemed like the last person in the school to break the rules.

“Miss Granger, for that I am taking five points from Gryffindor.” Professor McGonagall said stiffly, obviously not enjoying taking points from her own house, but knowing it was necessary. “I am very disappointed in you. If you aren’t hurt, you better head back to Gryffindor-Tower. The feast is being finished in the dorms.”

Hermione hastily left the room, glancing back at the three boys for a brief moment before she pulled the door shut behind her. The Transfiguration teacher then turned to face Harry, Ron, and Draco, who looked down, expecting to have points taken from them as well for having snuck away from their group. Her next words however surprised the blond, and his gaze snapped up to meet hers.

“Well, I’d still say you were lucky, but not many first years can defeat an adult mountain troll on their own. Each of you will receive five points for Gryffindor. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You can leave now.” 

The three of them practically ran out of the girls’ bathroom, and almost crashed into Hermione, who had lingered just outside the door, clearly waiting for them. She just smiled weakly at them and then turned around, leading the way back to the Tower without saying a word. In fact, none of them really spoke until they were two floors above where the troll had been, the smell of it finally leaving the air around them. Then Hermione stopped and turned to face them, looking a bit guilty. “Thank you.” She said simply and the three boys blinked before nodding slightly. 

“Are you really okay, Draco?” Hermione asked him then, her gaze quickly sweeping down over his ripped clothes. There was a small concerned frown tugging at her lips and she seemed genuinely worried, something he wasn’t very used to.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Hermione.” He said and she nodded slightly, though she looked slightly nervous. Harry and Ron then looked over at him as well, and Harry grimaced when he noticed the mess Draco’s platinum blond hair was, and the state his robes were in. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna be able to wear those anymore, mate.” Ron said, sounding sympathetic, but Draco just shrugged. He really didn’t care all too much about his robes, he had plenty of extras. Though, the thing that was bugging him suddenly seemed impossible to keep in any longer and he let out a huff of annoyance.

“Ten points?! Ten points for saving the whole school from a troll in our first year?! How is that bloody fair?!” Draco demanded abruptly, his voice loud and somewhat angry, while Hermione simply looked over at him with an annoyed glint replacing the concern in her eyes. 

“Well, you did sneak out, be glad she didn’t take points from you too!” She snapped and the blond threw his hands up in only slightly serious exasperation. In reality he really didn’t care anymore, he just had felt the need to let out some pent up anger for no real reason.

“Still, ten points? We should’ve gotten at least twenty, each.” Draco said, and crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the dull throb of pain in his arms the action caused.

“I have to agree with Draco on this one.” Ron piped up and Draco looked over at him in shock. He had expected the first name basis thing had only been because he had been in danger, but hearing him call him that normally caused a small spark of warmth to light up in his chest.

“Thanks, Ron.” He said and the redhead looked at him in surprise too. The look quickly morphed into a small smile however, and that seemed to be their queue to continue walking again for whatever reason. 

Hermione stayed close to them on the walk back, and continued to do so after that for the rest of their time at Hogwarts, and afterwards. Apparently, fighting a troll and almost dying was one of those things you couldn’t go through together without becoming friends.


	9. Quidditch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, okay, I didn't get this out yesterday or the day before or the day, I'm sorry. I do have three (semi) good excuses, one being that I have strange sleep issues and sometimes I just can't fall asleep until like five in the morning, so yeah... and two, my sister's been playing the Lego Harry Potter games with me lately and she keeps dragging me off to play it while I'm in the middle of writing and she doesn't leave me alone until I come, so... yeah... and three, well it was Mother's Day and being in the same house with my mom means I'm not allowed to stay in my room and write, so... anyways, I'm still sorry despite my excuses, but you guys get two chapters (maybe more) today, and possibly two (though likely only one) tomorrow too! If I manage to write that much while also working on schoolwork...

_Dear Draco,_

_I have to admit, I was a bit shocked to receive an owl from you, and even more so to hear that you had been sorted into Gryffindor! However, do not take that last sentence as any kind of insult, I was overjoyed to hear from my nephew who I haven’t seen in years and who I have missed quite dearly._

_I am doing well, thank you for asking. It’s a bit chaotic at home nowadays with your cousin, Nymphadora (do not by any means let her find out I called her that), having finished her NEWTs last year and being home practically all time. She’s become even more of a troublemaker than she was before, which you would’ve thought would have happened in the opposite way considering she is studying to become an auror. Then again, James Potter was an auror and he was one of the biggest troublemakers I ever knew, so perhaps your job cannot change your personality and hobbies all too much. Speaking of him, you’re in Harry’s house, I believe? Does he cause any trouble around the school? I sure hope if he is, you aren’t being dragged into it as well. The last member of the family who got mixed up with a Potter didn’t exactly end up having the best fate._

_I will spare you the details of that, you needn’t hear them. I’m sure they would rather alarm you, and seeing as this is the first time we’ve spoken in so long I would much prefer not to scare you away._

_Anyways, moving on to other things, how have your classes been? Is there anything you despise, or rather enjoy, as of yet? I remember particularly hating Transfiguration at your age for reasons I don’t exactly understand anymore, the spells we learned there just seemed so pointless, and we had to share that class with the Ravenclaws, who loved to show off. Then again, most classes included students trying their best to make all of Slytherin house feel rather terrible, so I suppose it may not have simply been because they had a desire to show everyone they were smart._

_Have you made any friends at Hogwarts yet? If you have, would you mind telling me about them? I don’t mean to be pushy or anything of the sort, I would merely enjoy getting to know you a bit better. You are free to tell me you have no interest in that, I will take no offense, I promise. I do hope to at least hear back from you at some point, even if it is only a short note._

_Until next time, I hope,_

_Andromeda Black-Tonks_

* * *

Despite the unsettling events that had transpired just a week or so prior, Draco couldn't help but feel excited about the upcoming Quidditch match. Even though he had wished he were in Slytherin for most of the first month of school, the blond now wanted nothing more than for the House of the Snakes to be beat by Gryffindor. However, the freezing cold weather outside that had slowly been getting steadily worse and worse would likely mess up both teams’ chances, and it also made Draco at first slightly hesitant to go to the match. Hermione seemed to have thought about that though and, despite the fact that it was probably against the rules (which she surprisingly seemed to become more lenient with after the troll incident), had found an empty glass jar and spelled magical blue flames into it to keep them warm.

They carried the jar around with them whenever they went outside, huddling around it, or standing close to each other with the flames at their backs whenever a professor or prefect walked by them. They had gotten themselves into enough trouble already over the past two months with the troll, and flying around outside of lessons, they didn’t need to add carrying _fire_ around with them to that list of things they got caught doing. One of the days they did this was the day before the first Quidditch match of the season, and they had almost been caught by Professor Snape.

The first year Gryffindors all had a free period on Fridays, and Draco, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were all standing outside in the courtyard, for reasons Draco didn’t really know, talking with their backs to the blue flame filled jar so they didn’t freeze. Things at Hogwarts had been mostly uneventful since the troll, besides the fact that Harry and Ron seemed to have decided they really didn’t care that much about their homework anymore. Hermione and Draco were berating them both on this, telling them they needed to at least _do_ it, even if they didn’t do it perfectly, because they needed to know what they were learning, when out of the corner of his eye Draco spotted the Head of Slytherin house walking through the courtyard.

“Professor Snape.” He hissed, interrupting Hermione as he nodded subtly in the teacher’s direction. Immediately all four of them moved closer to each other, hiding the sight of the fire behind their backs and hoping he would pass without paying them any attention. They of course had no such luck, and the Potions Master immediately started towards them, looking angry. Draco quickly noticed the fact that his godfather was limping, favoring his right leg over his left, and the blond frowned in confusion, though he tried his best to hide it. What could Severus have done to hurt himself?

“What do you have in your hand, Mr. Potter?” Professor Snape asked, obviously not having noticed the jar of fire behind them, yet still looking for some kind of excuse to get the four gryffindors in trouble. What did he have against Harry, exactly?

Draco’s raven-haired friend raised the copy of _Quidditch Through The Ages_ that he had borrowed from the school library (he had made Draco show him where that was a couple weeks ago) to show the teacher, seeming to think there was no reason he could get in trouble for it. For some strange reason that once again left Draco wondering what Harry had done to him to make him hate him so much, Severus’s obsidian eyes narrowed and he snapped in an angry voice:

“Books from the library are not allowed to be taken outside. Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor.” Draco’s jaw dropped in shock and he blinked in confusion at the teacher. He was taking the same amount of points they had received for defeating a troll, because of a book?! How did that make any sense? The teacher took the book from Harry’s hand and then stalked quickly away, leaving them all standing there in various stages of anger and shock. 

“He totally just made up that rule! I know every rule this school has, and there is nothing about taking books outside.” Draco snapped the second his godfather was out of earshot, clenching his hands into tight fists.

“What do you think was up with his leg?” Harry asked instead of saying anything in response to Draco, though the blond could see the anger at the unfairness of everything burning in his gaze. Draco shrugged slightly in response to what Harry had asked, taking a slow breath to calm his anger and slowly unclenching his fists.

“No idea, but I hope it hurts.” Ron said, his voice having an unsettling edge to it that made it impossible to doubt the honesty his statement held. His blue eyes glinted with a surprisingly menacing look and his lips were pulled down in an angry scowl.

* * *

After dinner the four young Gryffindors had all once again claimed the table by the window as their own, with Hermione now filling the empty seat in front of the window. Harry and Ron had, mainly just to get the other half of the quartet off their back, finished their Charms Essays that were due on Monday, and were currently ‘allowing’ Hermione and Draco to proof-read them. The Common Room was loud, which made sense since it was a Friday night and the night before the first Quidditch match of the school year, but it certainly made it a lot more difficult to concentrate on anything. At least, in Draco’s opinion it did, the other three didn’t seem too bothered by the noise, as if they were used to it. It made sense that Ron would be, he had three siblings that were still at Hogwarts plus three others who had either already graduated or would be in their first year the next year, so his house was probably pretty loud over the holidays. Hermione, as far as Draco knew, had no siblings at all, so where would she have gotten used to the noise from? And Harry… Draco knew he had a cousin, but considering who Harry was, it seemed unlikely to Draco that he or either of his parents would bother The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Suddenly, when Draco was about half-way through reading over Ron’s essay, Harry stood up from his seat and grabbed his bag from the floor beside it. “I’m going to go ask Snape for my book back.” He said and the other three gryffindors looked up at him in surprise. 

“He’s not going to give it back to you any time soon.” All three of them said at the same time and then looked at each other, slightly unsettled expressions on their faces. Harry looked at them with a slightly confused furrow in his brow before he simply turned around and left the common room without another word. 

“Snape really isn’t going to give him that book. He seems to hate him more than anyone else in the school.” Ron said once the raven-haired boy had left, a scowl tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked at the now closed portrait hole.

“I doubt he _hates_ him, Ron.” Hermione said, immediately going back to Harry’s essay, which she had been scribbling a tiny note onto before he had decided to leave. Draco however just shrugged and fidgeted with the quill he had in his hand, knowing that what the redhead had said actually held quite a bit of truth. Though Severus wasn’t around all too much because he worked at Hogwarts, Draco knew him well enough to be able to tell that he did indeed at least somewhat hate Harry, why though was a completely different thing and the blond could only guess.

“No, Hermione, he really does hate him.” Draco said, looking over at his bushy haired friend and missing the surprised expression on Ron‘s face at having him agree with him. 

“Why do you think that? I thought you’d agree with me. He’s a teacher, what possible reason could he have for hating Harry?” Hermione looked up from the parchment in her hands again in shock and quite a bit of confusion, an expression which looked unusual and out of place on her face. 

“He -“ Draco broke off before he could say anything that would reveal anything about how the Potions Master was his godfather, he really didn’t want them to know that little detail about his life just yet. “My parents know him, are friends with him if you want to go into a bit more detail, and he used to come over quite often. He often complained about how everyone was always patronising Harry, and how insufferable he was bound to be when he got to Hogwarts. Don’t… Don’t tell Harry this, but he mentioned his father quite a few times, and insulted him. I’m not sure why exactly, but he obviously has some kind of… hatred towards Harry’s dad, and he seems to have now transferred those feelings onto his view of Harry. At least, that’s what I’m guessing. No matter the reason though, I know he hates Harry.”

Hermione gave him a bit of a skeptical look and then turned back to the essay she was editing, shaking her head slightly. “No matter the reason you think that, I’m positive he doesn’t _hate_ Harry, dislike him, perhaps, but him actually hating him is just ridiculous.” 

After that none of them said anything to each other, though Draco and Ron did share a look of agreement and annoyance at Hermione's inability to believe a teacher could do anything but enjoy students and do good things. It was as if she thought they were all perfect or something, which was a rather ridiculous view to have on them.

About fifteen minutes later the Fat Lady’s portrait swung out again and Harry practically sprinted inside, panting slightly as if he had run all the way back from the teachers’ lounge. He immediately made a beeline for them and all but collapsed into his chair with a relieved sigh as he dropped his bag and ran his left hand through his dark hair. His glasses were crooked, eyes alight with adrenaline and cheeks flushed a rosy pink color, adding to the previous assumption of him having run back to the common room.

“Did you get it?” Ron asked urgently, though Draco could hear the hint of disbelief in his voice, obviously not expecting Harry to say he had. Indeed, the raven-haired boy just shook his head, looking defeated but also a bit scared, as if he had seen something bad. A small frown tugged at Draco’s lips as he noticed that last bit and at the same time as Ron asked:

“Are you okay?” 

Harry glanced around nervously for a moment, as if looking to see if anyone was listening in on them, and then turned back to face them. His green eyes were slightly dark with fear, and his hands clenched and unclenched six times before he finally answered the question in a hushed voice.

“I went down to the teachers’ lounge, I assumed if I asked in front of the other teachers he wouldn’t be able to not give me the book, but when I knocked nobody answered. So, after a few more tries at getting an answer, I… opened the door to see if maybe they just didn’t hear me.” Draco opened his mouth to protest, or at least tell Harry he was an idiot for doing that, but decided quickly against it and pressed his lips firmly together at the sharp look Hermione sent his way. “I saw Snape, he was in there, but not with the other professors like I expected. Filch was in there with him, and…” Once again Harry glanced anxiously around at the other Gryffindors in the room, none of which were really paying them much attention. “Snape was hurt, on his leg. It was bad, blood all over, and Filch was helping him bandage it, that’s probably why he was limping earlier. Just before they noticed me, Snape said something about how difficult it was to keep an eye on all three heads at once.

“You guys know what this means, right? He tried to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween. He was heading there when we saw him - whatever that dog is guarding, Snape wants it! And I’ll bet you my broom that it was him who let the troll into the castle, to distract everyone else!” By the end of that Harry was slightly out of breath, looking at them expectantly as he waited for their responses.

All Draco could do however was shake his head slightly while Hermione stared at the raven-haired boy with wide eyes and Ron had a thoughtful expression on his face, contemplating if he could be right. There was no way his godfather would have done something like that, Draco tried to convince himself, his thoughts mirroring those he had when they had spotted the same professor in the corridor heading towards the third floor corridor. The evidence Harry had was surprisingly good, and strong, but the blond still wouldn’t let himself even consider the idea. His parents had already both turned their backs on him and turned out to be different people than he thought, he couldn’t handle finding out his godfather was like that too. No, he couldn’t completely lose him too. He just couldn’t.

“He wouldn’t do that.” Draco and Hermione said at the same time, though the second the blond realized this he stopped talking and allowed the brunette to continue on her own. He had already told them about how he knew Snape, if he told Harry just yet, he would have to explain it as well, and Draco wasn’t sure he could explain it again without slipping up. “I know he isn’t particularly nice, but he wouldn’t try to steal something Dumbledore is protecting.”

Ron scoffed at that, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Honestly, Hermione, you act as if all teachers are some kind of saints. I think Harry’s right. I wouldn’t put anything past Snape.” A bit surprisingly, he sent Draco a brief apologetic look that was quickly broken off before Harry noticed. “But what’s he after? What’s the dog protecting?” All the blond could do in response to that was shrug, he had no idea.

* * *

  
  


The Quidditch match started the next morning around eleven, and Draco could’ve sworn the only other time he had since this many of Hogwarts' students together at the same time was at the beginning of the year feast. It looked as if the entire school had crammed themselves into the stands surrounding the pitch, and how everyone fit without literally standing on each other’s toes and being squished into the sides of those beside them, not even Hermione seemed to know judging by her shock and slightly confused expression. 

Draco had come up to sit with his other three dorm mates and Hermione in the highest seats possible for the students to watch the match. Together all of them had created a banner out of one of their dorm’s drapes, which had been partially destroyed by Ron’s pet rat, Scabbers, a few days prior to the match, and on it, written in gold paint was the statement: ‘Potter for President.’ along with an incredibly realistic lion head courtesy of Dean Thomas, who apparently had a talent when it came to anything artistic. What exactly the words on the banner meant, Draco didn’t know, he assumed it was some muggle thing since Hermione and Dean had come up with it together. The moment they got up into the stands they unfolded the large scarlet red piece of fabric and Draco pulled his wand from his pocket, muttering a quiet levitation spell so they wouldn’t have to deal with holding the thing up for Merlin knows how long in the bitter cold. 

At about a quarter after eleven, both the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams walked out of their respective locker rooms, one group in dark emerald green Quidditch robes, and the other in scarlet red. They marched out onto the field towards Madam Hooch, who stood in the very center of the pitch, her broom held in her hand, its end balanced partially on the grass. The fourteen Quidditch players all gathered around her and the falcon-like witch began speaking. It was basically impossible to hear her words due to how far away they were from her and that she was only speaking to the players, meaning she didn’t enhance her voice. 

Harry glanced up at them for a moment and Draco was pretty sure he saw a bright, confident smile flash across his face right before the teacher who was refereeing the game told them all to mount their brooms and they all flew off as she whistled so loudly the other gryffindors could hear it from all the way up in the stands. Harry headed upwards and began to slowly circle the field, obviously knowing exactly what he was doing. It made sense for that to be their strategy, have Harry seem harmless and just fly around so the other team didn’t expect all too much from him and would underestimate him.

“And Angelina Johnson from Gryffindor immediately gets the Quaffle - what a wonderful Chaser that girl is, and besides that also rather attractive -” Drao jumped slightly as the voice of Lee Jordan echoed through the pitch, quickly followed by Professor McGonagall’s voice calling the third year’s name, sounding angry. “Sorry, Professor.” He answered, though the tone of his voice suggested he really wasn’t all too sincere about that apology. 

Lee’s commentary faded into the background slightly as Draco turned his focus to the players zooming around the field on brooms. All thoughts of his parents, his house, Snape, and everything even remotely similar seemed to disappear from his mind, replaced only by the game being played in front of him. The unease and slight fear he had been constantly feeling since the first day at school was finally replaced by joy and the feeling of familiarity. Even though he himself wasn’t on the pitch flying and throwing goals with a Quaffle, the feeling was familiar and just made him feel comfortable there, despite how cold it truly was, in fact, even that seemed to have faded away for him.

The match started out good for Gryffindor, the first goal was thrown by the Gryffindor Chaser Lee had mentioned before. Cheers rose up all around him, and for once in his life he didn’t care about the noise, it just fueled his excitement and he cheered with them, grinning widely. _If my father were to see me this happy because the house of the brave was winning at Quidditch…_ Draco wasn’t sure where the thought came from but the grin flickered slightly and his cheers died down. If his father knew he not only had been sorted into Gryffindor but now actually enjoyed it, there was no way he would ever get another chance at him accepting him again. But then again, maybe that wasn’t quite so bad, maybe him being disowned wasn’t… terrible… in the sense that it meant he no longer had to try extra hard to become who his father wanted him to be. He had no chance of being that anymore, so what was the point of trying when he could just be… himself? The idea sounded almost more difficult than pretending, but it also gave him a slight feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

With that thought, and that relief, he pushed the rest of his thoughts away and returned his focus to the game again, only to, moments later, become distracted again when he heard the loud, booming voice of Hagrid telling students to make room so he could get through. Draco looked over in surprise at the same time as Ron and Hermione and he grinned again, though for a different reason than before. Sure, he had been hesitant of the man who seemed much to toweringly tall to be completely human, but over the past two months filled with pretty much weekly visits to his hut on the edge of the woods he had grown to like him. Of course, he was still rather intimidating, but he didn’t seem mean or aggressive in any way, so the initial fear and nervousness had quickly disappeared around him.

“Hagrid!” The three of them yelled (okay, maybe Draco didn’t fully yell, just spoke loudly, but it’s not like anyone there could tell the difference), and all scooted over a bit in their seats to make room for him to sit as well.

“Was watchin’ from my hut,” Hagrid said as he sat down and briefly showed them the abnormally large pair of binoculars hanging around his neck. “But it’s just somethin’ different to actually be here. Still no sign of the snitch, right?”

Draco glanced back at the pitch, just to make sure neither of the Seekers seemed to have gotten distracted in the few minutes he had been more focused on Hagrid, and then shook his head. “None.” Ron said before he could, looking out at the game as well. “Harry doesn’t have much to do yet.” Draco just nodded, not wanting to say anything because he might just repeat something or not say anything besides ‘yeah’.

“Stayed on the safe side so far, that’s somethin’.” Hagrid said and looked through his binoculars up at the sky, in the direction of where the small figure which wasn’t fully discernable as Harry was hovering on his broom. From so far below it was difficult to tell if Harry had any expression on his face that could show if he had seen anything at all.

“Least he hasn’t had a blu-” Draco’s words died in his throat the second he noticed one of Ron’s older brothers, who were both beaters for the Gryffindor team, racing up towards Harry. Just moments later a bludger came flying back from the two of them and almost knocked the Slytherin team’s captain off his broom. “Nevermind.” He said and Ron snorted slightly, trying not to laugh.

“Slytherin’s got the Quaffle,” Lee Jordan’s voice cut through Ron’s snickers and he stopped, a tiny annoyed scowl replacing it. It was almost funny how quick the change was, and if their opposing team hadn’t just gotten the ball for themselves, Draco probably would’ve started snickering himself. “Chaser Pucey ducks under two bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell and races towards the - wait a second - was that the snitch?”

Immediately Draco squinted in the direction of the Chaser, trying to spot the tiny gold ball with its lighting-fast wings, but Pucey was gone in an instant after having looked around for it, the Quaffle falling down into the awaiting hands of Angelina Johnson. It was too far for Draco to really see, but Harry immediately dropped into a dive, obviously having seen the snitch and knew which direction it was going. Just a second or so later Slytherins Seeker followed suit and raced in the same direction as Harry, catching up to him surprisingly quickly. 

Everyone else playing seemed to have forgotten that they were, all they did was kind of hover in place on their brooms, staring at the Seekers. Harry sped ahead of his Slytherin opponent, Terence Higgs or something like that, his hand outstretched towards the small golden ball which Draco could now see, his fingers almost closing around it -

Suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere, Marcus Flint slammed into Harry, almost knocking him off his broom, leaving it shuddering under him and Harry holding onto its handle for dear life. Draco, along with Ron, Hermione and many other Gryffindors jumped to their feet in outrage. That was a clear foul, even someone who had only ever heard of Quidditch could tell that.

“FOUL!” Practically everyone in the Gryffindor section of the stands screamed, Draco among. Seriously, if - the blond’s angry thoughts cut off when Madame Hooch, who looked beyond angry as well, raced towards Flint on her own broom and stopped in front of him, loudly announcing Gryffindor got a free throw. Suddenly, kind of out of nowhere Dean started yelling:

“Throw him out of the game, Ref! Red Card!” Draco sent him an incredibly confused look, his eyebrows scrunched so tightly together they seemed to combine. His silver eyes glinted in the midday sunlight as he tilted his head to the side slightly in confusion.

“What in Merlin’s name are you on about, Thomas?” He demanded, though he certainly had his suspicions. Dean was always rambling on and on about this muggle sport called football, where there was only one ball and it was played entirely on the ground. Honestly, how could muggles handle getting so dirty by playing a sport in the mud? Who would optionally do such a thing?

“This isn’t football, Dean.” Ron said, in a way answering Draco’s question and also kind of telling Dean to shut up at the same time. “You can’t throw someone out and replace them in Quidditch. And what exactly is a red card?” Draco nodded slightly, wanting to know that as well, but before Dean could even begin to explain Hagrid spoke up.

“They should change the rules, Harry almost fell off his broom because of what Flint did.” Draco couldn’t help but agree with that, and nobody else seemed to be able to disagree seeing as nobody denied it.

After that the game seemed to continue relatively normally for a while, at least until Harry was almost hit by a bludger for the second time. He seemed unable to get his broom under control after having swerved out of the way of the fast speeding black metal ball. At first it was just a minor seeming thing, and Draco was sure he was the only one who really noticed, but then the tiny shuddering turned into a full blown thrash, as if the broom was trying to throw him off. Slowly Draco started to stand, wondering if he could see what was happening better that way, but he couldn’t spot what was wrong. 

“Merlin, Harry… what are you doing?!” He hissed under his breath as Harry’s broom began to get even more out of control. It started flying short, quick distances and then stopping so abruptly that the raven-haired boy almost flew off the front of it. Draco’s frown grew and he glanced over at the other Gryffindors around him, wondering if any of them had noticed, only to see everyone distracted by Marcus Flint, who had once again gotten the Quaffle and was racing towards the goal posts. Harry’s broom began turning in fast, uneven circles and even though the other boy was relatively far away again Draco could see the fear etched onto his face as he basically curled himself around his broom handle to keep himself on it.

“Something’s wrong with Harry’s broom.” He said and Hermione, Ron, and Hagrid all looked at him just as the Slytherins scored. They all glanced up at Harry and seemed to finally realize that he was slowly raising higher and higher into the air, thrashing around more and more violently. 

“How could somethin’ be wrong with his broom? The only thing that can mess a broom up is dark magic.” Hagrid said and Draco frowned as Harry’s broom suddenly stopped moving, only to flip upside down a few seconds later. Harry almost fell off, only just barely managing to tighten his grip enough to hang from it upside down almost like a sloth. Draco’s eyes widened in fear for his friend, no _best_ friend, as his broom gave another viscous thrash, throwing Harry around so much he let go of the broom almost completely besides his one hand, which left him hanging there, hundreds of feet in the air, with a broom that looked like it was trying to kill him and only a very small amount of attachment to it.

“Someone must have bewitched it.” Hermione and Draco said at the same time and the former snatched Hagrid’s binoculars from him without even bothering to ask. She swept her gaze through the crowd of people watching until she finally paused, a strange mix of triumph and fear flickering across her face. 

“What are you doing?” Ron demanded, but she ignored his question, simply continued staring through the binoculars at that one place in the crowd.

“I knew it…” She hissed suddenly, lowering them slightly so she could shove them into Draco’s hands to force him to look as well. “It’s Snape.” For a few seconds all he did was stare at her in shock before the blond slowly raised the binoculars to his eyes so he could see what she was looking at and he felt his breath catch in his throat slightly. Just as Hermione had all but said, Severus was standing in the teachers’ stands, his obsidian eyes locked on Harry as he mumbled under his breath. 

“No… Why?” Draco shoved them roughly in Ron’s direction, not capable of looking at his godfather any longer than that. He didn’t… There must’ve been… Severus was probably doing something to stop whoever was trying to kill Harry, yeah, that’s what must’ve been happening. Except he hated him, so why would he? No, there’s no way he would try to kill Harry. Steal something, maybe, but kill an eleven year old? No, Severus wouldn’t do that.

“What are we gonna do?” Ron asked after he himself had watched Snape mumbling hexes, or counter-curses. He sounded nervous, and even if Draco wasn’t scared of his godfather, he was definitely nervous about Harry.

“I’ll handle it.” Hermione said and pulled her wand from her robes, heading in the direction the teachers’ stands were located. She however froze in place when Draco called out for her, pulling his own wand from his pocket. 

“I’m coming with.” He said and for a second it seemed like she might protest, but then she just sighed and continued on her way, Draco following closely behind her. Part of him knew he was only going with to prove it to himself that yes, his godfather was hexing Harry’s broom, and the other part went because he just wanted to see what his bushy-haired friend would do to stop the professor.

Together the two of them pushed their way through the crowds of people who were all slowly starting to realize there was something going on with Harry. It took them at least five minutes just to get there and Harry seemed to be getting closer and closer to having his grip on his broom slip, causing Draco to hurry up his pace. They stumbled through the crowds of teachers in the stand when they finally reached the proper one, Draco tripping over the foot of their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and basically falling into him as they did so. The man with a purple turban tumbled backwards over his seat and Draco grimaced slightly before rushing on after Hermione without apologizing. The brunette was heading directly towards Snape, who was sitting only a few seats next to Professor Quirrell.

“What if it isn’t Sna-” Draco’s brief moment of doubt was cut short by Hermione who glared over at him as she quietly knelt down behind Snape and mumbled the same spell she had used to create the blue flames they kept in the jar they carried around outside, pointing her wand at the Potions Master’s robes. Immediately the seams of them burst into brilliant sky blue flames, though somehow it took Draco’s godfather a solid thirty seconds to notice them and react. By then the damage was already done and Hermione quickly trapped the flames in a glass jar similar to the one they had kept the other flames in before, backing away so that Snape didn’t know it was her. 

Draco glanced up towards Harry and was relieved (though terrified of the meaning behind it) to find his broom had stopped jerking around and he had somehow, despite his skinny and small arms, pulled himself back up onto it. The blond’s tense shoulders relaxed and then the two gryffindors both quickly headed back to their stands, almost missing when Harry suddenly leaned forwards into a dive, plummeting straight towards the ground with his right hand outstretched towards a small golden ball. Just a few feet from the ground the snitch suddenly seemed to disappear and Harry quickly moved his hand up to his mouth as he practically crashed into the grass. He leaned forward, coughing and wheezing slightly as if he was going to be sick, only for a small glittering golden ball to land on the ground in front of him which he quickly grabbed and then stood up shakily, raising it high into the air above his head, yelling: “I’ve got the snitch!”

* * *

About half an hour later Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco were all sitting in Hagrid’s hut with warm cups of tea on the table in front of them. After the game had ended (which Gryffindor won by 110 points) the Slytherins had begun yelling about how unfair it was, and even twenty minutes later they had not shut up, so the four young Gryffindors had all decided to just escape to the little wooden hut on the edge of the forest.

“It was Snape.” Ron said suddenly and Harry looked up from his tea, a surprised and confused look on his face. “Hermione, Draco, and I all saw it. He was mumbling things to himself and putting curses on your broom, he didn’t look away once.” Draco opened his mouth to protest that he really still didn’t want to believe Severus had done such a thing, but Hagrid cut him off, though it was to say the same thing as he wanted to.

“Nonsense.” The giant of a man said, obviously both not having heard any of what they had talked about in the stands and also not accepting it like Draco. “Why would Snape do something like that?” Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other, while Draco simply looked down at the contents of his cup. He really didn’t want to have this conversation at the moment, maybe the next day or so, after he’d been able to think for a while, but he honestly doubted it would be that soon. It was too hard to imagine losing someone else who had been a sort of parent to him.

“I found something out about him,” Harry said suddenly and Draco looked up in surprise. Harry was telling Hagrid the truth?! What if he told Dumbledore, or worse yet McGonagall, they had been doing stuff they shouldn’t have? “On Halloween he tried to get past that three-headed dog. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's protecting.”

Hagrid almost dropped his teacup in surprise and he looked up so abruptly Draco partially expected him to have hurt his neck. “How do you know about Fluffy?” He demanded, his voice having more of a dangerous edge to it than the blond had ever heard from him before.

“ _Fluffy?!_ ” All four of them demanded at once. How could something so dangerous and terrifying be named something like that?!

“Yeah, he’s mine, yeh see. Got him off this guy from Greece about a year or so ago, - loaned him to Dumbledore to use as a guard dog for -” Hagrid broke off abruptly, his eyes widening at how close he got to telling them something they probably weren’t supposed to know.

“Yes?” Harry asked, his green eyes shining excitedly at the thought of discovering what was going on after weeks, well months really, of being in the dark.

“That’s enough, don’t ask me anything else. This is all extremely secret, it is.” Hagrid snapped instead of answering, looking guilty for having said anything in the first place.

“But Snape tried to _steal_ it.” Harry insisted.

“Nonsense.” Hagrid said again and Draco forced himself not to say anything to show he agreed. “Snape is a teacher at Hogwarts, he would never do something like that.”

“Then why did he just try to kill Harry?” Hermione snapped. It seemed her opinion on the whole Snape thing had changed the moment she had seen him mumbling hexes under his breath. “I can tell when someone’s using a hex, Hagrid, I’ve read everything about it. You have to keep your gaze locked on what you’re hexing, and Snape wasn’t even blinking! I saw it!”

Draco looked away, trying his best not to say anything but failing only seconds later. “He could’ve been saying a counter-curse to someone’s hex, y’know. You have to to do the exact same things.” His voice came out quiet, and he could tell how obvious it was how scared of their reactions he was. His three friends all looked at him in shock, but before they could say anything Hagrid had begun talking again, still addressing Hermione.

“I’m telling you, you’re completely wrong! I don’t know why Harry’s broom was acting that way, but Snape would never try to kill a student! Now listen to me very closely, you’re getting yerselves involved in things that have nothing to do with you. Forget about the dog, and forget about what he guarding, this is a thing just to do with Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel -”

“Aha!” Harry cut Hagrid off, grinning in a sort of triumph. “So someone named Nicholas Flamel has to do with all of this?”


	10. Of Transfigurations and Suspicions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is by far the shortest chapter in this story, but that's mainly just because this is supposed to show a brief glimpse as to how Draco feels about all of the Snape stuff going on. This is one hundred percent a filler, and isn't exactly even needed to tell this story, but I got the idea and I couldn't just leave it out, plus it gives this more depth and that's good, in my opinion, so... I'm sorry this is only about 1500 words or so, but I hope you enjoy this, at least.

Despite being rather talented in Transfiguration, Draco found himself wishing not to have the class at all. Harry and Ron seemed to find it the perfect time to try and talk to him, maybe it was because they were actually decent at the subject and succeeded in doing as Professor McGonagall asked almost perfectly every time, or maybe it was just because it was the class with their Head of House, and they didn't expect her to take points from them. The latter was a rather stupid assumption considering what she had done on Halloween, but it was probably very much so true in the other two Gryffindors's minds because they themselves hadn't had any points taken from them. Hermione, who mostly just listened to the teachers and took notes during class, usually ignored the other three, but occasionally she would briefly join in on their conversations to state her own opinion. The most common topic of discussion between the four of them was Professor Snape's role in the events that kept taking place in the school.

Draco continued to strongly stay on the side of his innocence in everything, not because he truly believed he hadn't done any of those things, but because he didn't  _ want _ to believe his godfather was doing bad things. Sure, his family had been on the... wrong side of the war back in the day, and even though Draco's father said it wasn't of his own accord, the blond had become quite sure over the years that this was a lie, but there was no way that Severus would ever do anything to harm people just to steal something. No, his godfather was a good person deep down, even if he was a bully to students, and Draco wouldn't sway from his opinion on that, not until he had legitimate proof stating otherwise at least.

Their Transfiguration lesson on the first Tuesday of December was another one of the days where they did that, tried to change his mind. They had been learning about how to transfigure a handkerchief into a blanket, and Hermione and Draco had of course already finished, so while Ron and Harry were still trying, the bushy-haired brunette had decided it was the perfect time to attempt to convince him Professor Snape was the only possible person who could have bewitched Harry’s broom. Just under a month prior she had been fighting Harry unwaveringly on the fact that there was no way Severus would ever do such a thing, but then that Quidditch match changed her mind completely and Draco was left alone on his side of the argument. 

“Oh, c’mon, Draco, won’t you at least try to see reason?” She said in an exasperated tone, giving him an annoyed look as she turned to completely face him. Draco had thought sitting next to her might have given him at least a bit of peace since she seemed to only jump in when Harry and Ron started, but apparently she just didn’t like the idea of leaning from her table to theirs constantly to tell him why he should believe them.

“No, Hermione, because what you’re saying is wrong! Snape isn’t the person doing this! I’m sure he’s trying to stop whoever actually is!” The blond snapped, not all too gently placing his quill onto their desk as he too turned to face her, his greyish silver eyes like steel. She rolled her eyes for what felt like the twentieth time in the past half hour and sighed.

“How do you explain Harry's broom going back to normal after I made Snape look away and stop muttering a spell then? Just coincidence? Draco, why won’t you just accept that maybe he isn’t who you thought?” Hermione demanded, her voice now a bit louder than necessary. A Hufflepuff girl sitting in the row in front of them glanced over for a second before going back to practicing transfiguring her handkerchief. Draco took a deep, slightly shuddering breath, trying to keep the growing anger in him down, he really didn’t need to get detention for disrupting the class.

“Because he’s the only one in my family that I’ve known since I was a kid who hasn’t completely left me yet! Hermione, I… I can’t accept it because it hurts, okay? Can you please just drop it?” Draco could hear the slight desperation and break in his voice, but he didn’t care, he just hoped it might at least convince her to leave him alone about it. 

She opened her mouth to protest, but stopped before she said anything, grimacing slightly before turning back to face the so far blank parchment that was supposed to have notes on the spell written on it with a sigh. “Fine. For now, you… Draco, eventually you’re going to have to at least consider the possibility. Especially if things like this keep happening.” She said, sounding slightly defeated as she picked up her quill and dipped its end into the ink bottle lying on the desk in front of her. 

He looked away from her and did the same thing, continuing to write down the notes he had already started doing as he pretended he hadn’t heard her. Draco knew she was technically correct, he had to consider the possibility, and he had, multiple times, but that didn’t mean he could even begin to actually allow himself to accept it. That would take a while, and he would need a lot more proof of his godfather’s guilt for it to happen.

* * *

“Oh, c’mon, guys, leave him alone. We’re not getting any closer to convincing him, so maybe we should just wait until we actually know for sure it’s Snape.” Hermione cut Harry and Ron off mid-sentence later that evening while they were doing homework. They had taken the chance of being outside class to once again try and convince him to take their side about the Potions Master. All three of the Gryffindor boys looked over at Hermione in shock after she said that, none of them, even Draco, had expected her to stand up for his opinion. Sure, Draco knew he had managed to get  _ her _ off his back, but he hadn’t thought she would call the other two off for it as well.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, Draco, it’s obvious how much our constant pestering is bothering you, besides we still have more important things to worry about than who’s trying to steal whatever the dog’s guarding.” Hermione said, rolling her eyes slightly as if she had read his thoughts.

“Homework and our midterm tests?” The three boys guessed in unison but the brunette scoffed and shook her head, almost as if she thought the idea was stupid. That reaction was unusual coming from her, and a small frown tugged at Draco’s lips. What could possibly be more important to her than either of those things?

“We still haven’t found out who Nicholas Flamel is, what his connection to the thing being protected is, or even what that thing is in the first place. For all we know, it would be perfectly logical to take it, maybe it shouldn’t be in the castle, and Dumbledore can’t get it back out himself.” Hermione said as if it were obvious that’s what she had meant and the boys glanced at each other, slightly skeptical looks on their faces. Surely, she was at least slightly concerned about the amount of homework they were supposed to have over the holidays and the small tests to help prepare themselves for the end-of-year exams after said holidays. “Well, okay, and maybe partially our schoolwork, but still. We could be in danger, everyone here could be in danger, and we won’t truly know until we’ve found out what’s hidden under that trapdoor on the third floor.”

There was the Hermione they were used to, though her statement did somewhat contradict what she had said to them the very first time they had encountered something to do with all of this:  _ “Now if you lot don’t mind, I’m going to bed before any of you happen to come up with something else that could get us killed, or worse expelled.” _

“Well, all we know so far is that I’ve heard the name before, though I can’t remember where. It might’ve been in the muggle world, but I doubt it, so I probably heard it somewhere after I went to Diagon Alley.” Harry said and Hermione nodded slightly, looking a bit lost in thought suddenly.

“Still, considering we’ve found absolutely nothing so far in the library, I’ll ask my parents just in case they do know something, it can’t hurt.” She said and shrugged slightly, obviously not actually expecting them to know anything about the man they were researching. Still, she was right, it couldn’t hurt to ask them just in case.

“I still just wish Hagrid would tell us who he is. It would make all of this so much easier. He wouldn’t even have to tell us about the object, if we just knew  _ something _ , like even his career or his age or anything like that if he doesn’t tell us who exactly he is, could help! Right now, all we have is a name, and nothing else! That’s basically no information to go off of.” Draco said and Ron nodded along, seeming to agree but didn’t know what to say to express it.

“Yeah, at least we still have two weeks before the holidays, so we still have time to find something. And, since you and Harry are both going to be here, Draco, you guys can keep searching too. Who knows, maybe you’ll find something.” Hermione said and both boys who were mentioned grimaced, neither really wanting to think about why they wouldn’t be leaving the castle over Christmas. 

“Sure, Hermione, we can try.” Harry agreed and then went back to his History of Magic essay, clearly, like Draco, just wanting to avoid any further conversation on the holidays.


	11. A Christmas Miracle... or Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this story! I can't believe this has already reached 1000 hits! I think that makes this one of my most popular fics (this is 1300 hits away from beating Project Spider, which I strangely want to happen... just because I don't like that fic, to be honest, but well... Anyways, Thank you guys again for reading, commenting (this is my most commented on fic, because honestly Wattpad comments are different, in a way.), bookmarking, leaving kudos, everything. Thank you!
> 
> Okay, the chess game in this chapter took forever to write and I set up the way the board would look just to make sure I didn't mess up. I sure hope I didn't... Also, I apologize for the invisibility cloak scene, I just could't find a whole lot of motivation to write it so I was stuck in the middle of it for a while (hence why this took longer to get out than it should have). By the way, my brother was constantly bugging me about not having this chapter finished yet, which is really kind of stupid because he hasn't even read one part of this story, but it also kind of got me motivated to finish this just because I wanted him off my back.
> 
> Anyways, I've decided I am no longer going to say when I plan to get the next chapter out because I probably won't manage to do it. I probably won't end being able to finish this by May 22nd, I probably could if I didn't have schoolwork to do over the week, but unfortunately, I do so I can't write as much as I wish to. I will likely finish this by the end of this month however, so the second book might start being written soon and posted in the first or second week of June (we'll see, it depends on when I really do finish this.)
> 
> Also, moving on from that, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I'd love hearing what you guys thought of it.

Draco was used to how Christmas was at Malfoy Manor. He was used to the entire place being covered in a thin layer of white, powdery snow, to the sound of the enchanted piano in the drawing room playing all day and late into the night, to the huge tree that towered so high above him that its tip touched the ceiling, to the constant warm, crackling fire in the fireplace, to the towering piles of presents, to being surrounded constantly by his parents and other pureblood families who came over on the days around Christmas day. Being at Hogwarts, away from all of that for the first time in his life, unsettled him. He felt restless, fidgety, as if he needed to be doing something constantly just to keep his mind off of everything. His surroundings were so similar to those at the Manor, yet so incredibly different that it was difficult to fully understand how it all felt. There were no crowds of people his parents knew trying to talk to him, or just plain ignoring him, no piano music playing. Snow still covered every inch of the school grounds, except it wasn't just a few inches of powder as it was at home, there was at least 7 inches of it and it was slightly damp to the point where it stuck to the bottom of your shoes if you walked through it, or stayed in a ball almost as hard as a rock if you formed it in that way.

A week before the holidays had started Ron had received a letter from his parents saying they would be spending that Christmas with his older brother, Charlie, in Romania and that all of the Weasleys at Hogwarts would be staying there that year. Ron didn’t seem to care all too much about this, and though he was a bit upset about not seeing his parents until the summer, he seemed far more excited to be able to spend the holidays with Harry and Draco. The blond had to admit, he was glad the Weasleys would be staying, he had come to enjoy their company over the past few months and even though Ron loved pestering him about Snape, and Percy seemed determined be stricter with his own house than any of the others, they still felt almost like distant family members who he had grown close to, or something of the sort.

Pansy and Blaise, who -thank Merlin- were going home over the holidays, seemed to find it amusing to make fun of him about his lack of welcomeness in his own home, and how they would be going there, even though it wasn’t even their house. By then Draco really had just given up on caring about their words. They always said the same thing and he always knew the insults they couldn’t say out in the open, so the more he heard them, the easier it became to just let them roll over him and not affect him. It wasn’t like their words hadn’t left their mark on him, that would be impossible considering the fact that they used to be his friends and were now the ones trying their hardest to hurt him in any way possible, but he had finally managed to push past even somewhat believing their words were true.

He knew he was considered a blood-traitor now, they certainly loved calling him that, but he didn’t find it insulting anymore, he felt almost proud of it. The Weasleys, who Draco had learned more and more about over the past few months, seemed kind, and gentle, not the terrible, cruel family his parents painted them out to be. The “proper” pure-blood families were the cruel ones, Draco had slowly come to realize, and if he had to be called a blood-traitor so that he wasn’t associated with them anymore, then he was okay with that, even if the name was terrible and all around insulting.

* * *

The first week of the holidays was calmer than any of the others they had experienced since the beginning of Hogwarts. Draco had encouraged, or better to say  _ forced _ , the other two boys to finish all of their homework during the first weekend, so perhaps the fact that they had that out of the way already helped make everything seem less stressful. Maybe it was just that it was almost Christmas, so everyone was in a better mood which made the castle feel even more welcoming than it usually did. Or possibly everything just seemed more relaxed because finally they didn’t have to worry about any of the Slytherins messing with any of them and they could just sit around without a care for what someone might say to them.

“Knight to G-3.” Ron said smugly late at night on Christmas Eve, the wizard’s chess board set up on their table in front of him, surrounded by broken chess pieces. Harry sat across from the redhead and was scowling down at the board in concentration, trying to figure out how he could possibly still win the game with a pawn, his king, and queen left. Well, only a pawn and his King now, seeing as the knight Ron had sent had just smashed the queen to pieces and shoved it off of the board onto the table with the rest of the broken pieces. 

“C’mon, Ron…” Harry groaned and glared slightly at his friend while Draco sat in the seat Harry usually sat in while they did homework, snickering. “How is destroying my pieces fair? Couldn’t you just do it normally and take them off the board yourself? I suck at the repairing spell, these things are never going to be fully fixed if you just keep smashing them like that. Seamus is gonna be pretty annoyed if he gets half-wrecked pieces back after the holidays.”

Ron’s smug grin didn’t even flicker and he leaned forward against his hand, which he had propped up on the table beside him. His blue eyes glinted happily in the flickering firelight of the flames inside the huge fireplace of the Common Room. “It’s your turn.” The redhead said, as if he wasn’t currently on the receiving end of The-Boy-Who-Lived’s death-glare.

_ Move your pawn to C-5, Harry, to kill Ron’s bishop before it kills the pawn. How can he not see this?! _ Draco thought in exasperation, glancing between the two of them, it was both amusing and painful to watch them play. Ron was clearly much better at it than Harry, and while Draco found it quite hilarious that the latter was so bad at something and he kind of wanted him to win (just so he could beat him in the next game, but well, nobody needed to know that), he knew there was no way his raven-haired best friend could beat his other one.

“King to D-1.” Harry said and Draco facepalmed, that was literally one of the worst moves Harry could possibly do at this point.  _ How am I friends with such an idiot? _ Draco thought, keeping his left hand in front of his face, unable to believe how stupid and oblivious Harry was at times.

“Knight to H-1.” Ron said, still smug despite the fact that he had accomplished nothing in that turn. Or had he done something? What was he planning? Draco’s eyes scanned the chess board, trying to figure out what the redhead intended to do. His silver eyes widened ever so slightly when he realized what he was doing.  _ He really is good… _

“Pawn to D-5.” Harry said, obviously having realized the danger the smaller piece was in, though whether he moved it or not really didn’t matter anymore. His king would be trapped if he moved it anyways. Draco sighed again and leaned back in his chair, mentally trying to figure out if it would take Ron two, or three turns to finish off Harry’s king.

“Rook to D-5. Check.” Ron said, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched his chess-piece move towards Harry’s last pawn and smash it in two. The-Boy-Who-Lived’s jaw dropped in shock and he stared at the wooden dark and light brown chess board in front of him before giving an annoyed huff and scowling at it instead.

“King to E-1.” Harry said since that was the only place he could go, and nobody would even be able to get him on the turn after that.

“Knight to F-2. Checkmate.” Ron said, his eyes glinting in clear triumph as the chess piece slid to the dark square he had told it to go to. He leaned back in his chair just as Draco had moments prior and clasped his hands behind the back of his head while a smirk slowly spread across his face.

“H-how?!” Harry sputtered, his jaw dropping in shock and confusion as his green eyes grew wider and wider behind his round glasses. For a few seconds all the raven-haired boy did was stare at the board, his brow furrowed in complete astonishment and confusion. Ron continued to smirk and watch one of his best friends try to figure out how he had lost for a few seconds before indicating to Harry’s king almost lazily with his right hand. 

“If you moved it forward, the rook that’s over here on A-2 would’ve killed you; if you went to the right the bishop up on H-3 would’ve gotten you; if you went to the left either the knight on F-2 or the rook on D-5 would’ve gotten you; if you went diagonally onto F-2 you would’ve been killed by the bishop on C-5; and if you went diagonally in the other direction you would’ve been killed by the rook on D-5. I trapped you so the only safe spot was where you were, and since I killed your only other piece and you always have to move something on your turn, you couldn't go anywhere without putting yourself in check.” Ron explained, his smirk never fading from his face and the glint in his blue eyes seeming to just become brighter.

* * *

The next morning, Christmas, Draco was awoken rather early by Harry and Ron, who usually couldn’t even get up on time to get to breakfast when they were supposed to. The two of them had been talking about something, though what it was, he didn’t bother trying to listen in on. “Wha’ time’s it?” He asked, still half asleep as he pushed himself up into a slumped sitting position on his four-poster bed and rubbed at his eyes tiredly with the palms of his hands. His two best friends looked over at him, both grinning widely, despite the fact that the redhead was clearly about as awake as Draco was in that moment.

“Merry Christmas, Draco.” Harry said and continued to grin at him for a few seconds before looking back at the presents piled at the end of his bed, looking suddenly surprised and confused, yet happy all the same. The mix of emotions on his face didn’t make all too much sense to the blond, not only did they all seem to not really fit with the others, but also why would Harry be surprised or confused by getting presents? He was the saviour of the wizarding world, surely he was used to receiving a lot of gifts from people.

“You too, Harry. Merry Christmas to you too, Ron.” Draco replied and looked over at his redheaded best friend, slowly waking up more as he looked over at him. The young Weasley looked over at him again as well and grinned as he threw his blankets off of his legs and then crawled to the end of his bed where his pile of gifts, which was surprisingly larger than Harry’s, was.

“You too, Draco.” He said and reached for the gift at the very top of his pile, basically becoming immersed in unwrapping it instantly.

Rather reluctantly, Draco threw his own scarlet red blankets off himself and moved towards the foot of his bed, where there was an actually fairly decent pile of presents considering he only had three friends and his parents both hated him. Well, he had his aunt, who he had been owling with for the past three or so months, but he doubted she would get him anything, she had no reason to.

He shook all speculations of who had sent him things away and somewhat shakily reached for the top present of his own pile. It was rectangular, a bit larger than his hand in length and width, and was wrapped neatly (either with magic or someone with a very steady hand) in dark blue paper.  _ Merry Christmas, Draco. I hope you like this, it’s a bit complicated and rather advanced, but I thought you might enjoy it. ~ Hermione _ was written in the neat, loopy handwriting of his bushy-haired third best-friend. A smile spread across his face and he began to unwrap it while trying to rip as little of the paper as possible. Sure, just tearing it off might have been easier, but it also made more of a mess, and growing up in the manor he had always been scolded if he made too much of a mess, so he instinctively just unwrapped the gift as neatly as he could.

The gift from Hermione turned out to be a book called  _ Moste Potente Potions _ and without even opening it Draco could tell she had been correct about it being complicated and advanced. He was sure he had only ever seen the book on the highest shelf in his godfather’s potion room in his house (which Draco had only been to a few times over the course of his life), and that particular shelf had been the one filled with books that had dangerous and incredibly advanced potions in them, things you didn’t learn at school. For a few moments the blond Gryffindor just sat on his bed, holding the Potions book in his hands with a soft smile on his face. “Thanks, Hermione…” He whispered so quietly that neither of the other boys heard him and placed the book down beside him before reaching over to grab his next gift.

This one was wrapped much more sloppily, obviously done without magic, and the paper was a deep scarlet red, very similar to the color of the Gryffindor dormitory’s blankets and carpets. He tilted his head to the side slightly in confusion as he slowly turned it over in his hands, looking for a note or something similar to tell who it was from. It most likely wasn’t from Harry or Ron, neither of them had really been capable of going out to buy anything, just like Draco, but the blond didn’t know who else would’ve given him anything beside his best friends.

“Who do you reckon this is from?” Draco asked, not completely sure why, and Harry and Ron both looked up at him, the latter’s eyes immediately widening and his cheeks becoming flushed with a pale pink when he caught sight of the gift the blond was holding.

“I think... that’s from my mum. I told her what happened with your family, and that you and Harry weren’t exactly expecting much this year, so she must have sent you something. You probably have something from her too, Harry. Oh no, I think she sent you Weasley-sweaters!” Ron said, looking thoroughly embarrassed as he did, his face seeming to become even redder than before, if that was even possible. Draco stared at him for a moment, not taking any notice to Harry as he too picked up a rather lumpy, sloppily packed gift. 

“I…” The blond trailed off, feeling a bit at a loss for what to say as he looked back down at the gift in his hands, the gift Ron’s mother,  _ Mrs. Weasley _ , whose family had always had a kind of rivalry with his own, had sent him. Instead of saying anything after that failed first attempt at speaking Draco began unwrapping the paper from around the present. 

When the paper fell away from what was inside it, the first thing Draco saw was a neatly folded home-made knitted dark blue sweater and when he carefully picked it up, letting it unfold itself, he noticed the silvery-gray letter  _ D _ knitted into its front. For a few seconds he just stared at it in shock, a warm, happy feeling beginning to spread through his chest and then the rest of him like he had just drunk a hot cup of cocoa. Ron’s mother had never even met him, and she knew who his parents were, yet she still made something herself that was just for him. A smile lit up his face and with barely a second’s hesitation he pulled the sweater over his head, messing his hair up and filling it with static electricity that made it crackle slightly.

“She makes us one every year.” Ron was saying and Draco looked over at him, still smiling wider than he had in what felt like years. ‘And mine’s  _ always _ maroo-” 

Before the redhead could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Draco, though the blond didn’t seem to have meant to cut him off. “Can you… tell your mum thanks? For this?” He asked and Ron looked up from his own sweater, which was, as he had said, maroon. A mildly surprised expression crossed the redhead’s face and then he smiled, nodding ever so slightly.

“I’m sure she’ll be glad you like it. Also, I believe there’s home-made fudge for you too. Harry and I both got some.” Ron said, indicating towards the tin Draco hadn’t noticed before that was still lying on top of the wrapping paper in front of him.

“It’s _ really _ good.” Harry added, his own tin already open beside him and he was currently taking out a piece and quickly eating it before turning back to the two presents left in his pile. Draco, all hesitancy he had felt earlier about his gifts gone, opened his and tried the fudge that was inside it as well. When Harry said it was really good, he was under-stating it, the fudge was better than anything he had ever tasted, and that was saying something considering how high-class and expensive the food and desserts he had grown up with were. His smile grew slightly (somehow, he hadn’t thought he could even smile this wide at all) and since he couldn’t resist the urge, grabbed another piece before he too turned back to his last two presents.

One was rather small and wrapped neatly in dark green paper, tied off with a silver ribbon that had a small note strung to it, the other was a bit larger and was wrapped in deep violet paper, a golden ribbon with a note strung to it tying it off in a very similar fashion to the other one. Draco grabbed the latter first, not because it was bigger, no, this year he didn’t find himself caring about the size of his gifts, but because he was sure he recognized the smaller one’s wrapping-paper and was scared of what him receiving a gift from  _ them  _ could mean. 

The small note on the violet wrapped present read, in a handwriting Draco had gotten used to reading over the past few months:  _ Draco, you told me in one of your letters you enjoyed playing Wizard’s chess, yet, if I am remembering correctly, you don’t own your own set. I hope this one will play well for you. Perhaps you can even beat Ron, who you called “unbeatable”, now. ~ Aunt Andromeda P.S.: Push the button _ . Draco smiled at the small slip of parchment, then untied the ribbon and unwrapped the paper from the rectangular smooth, black box. There was a small silver button on the front of it, and when he reached forward and pressed it with his right index finger the box suddenly transformed itself into a chessboard with one side already set up and the same silver button on the edge of it. He quickly pushed it again and grinned as the board turned back into the box, which he lay down beside him, silently thanking his aunt.

Draco then looked back at the last gift in his pile, hesitantly reaching towards it, only to freeze when Ron suddenly exclaimed in shock and amazement. The blond’s head snapped up, taking his chance to push back him opening the small blue gift, to see what was going on. Ron was staring at something that shimmered with silver light and was lying on the ground at Harry’s feet, as if the raven-haired boy had dropped it. Draco felt his own eyes widen in shock as well at the sight of the large, silver-glowing piece of silky-cloth.  _ No way… Who gave him an invisibility cloak? _

“I’ve heard of those,” Ron said with a slightly far-off, jealous voice before Draco could even open his mouth to begin speaking himself. The box of Bertie-Botts Every Flavor Beans the redhead had received from someone slipped from his hand and fell onto the bed beside him, somehow not spilling at all. “If that’s what I think it is - they’re really rare and  _ really _ valuable.” Draco nodded along vigorously to what the redhead was saying, positive they were both thinking of the same thing, because what else could the thing that looked like a shimmering blanket be?

“What is it?” Harry picked the shimmering cloth up from the carpeted ground as he asked this and let it slide through his fingers a bit, as if he was trying to figure out how it felt. Maybe he was, but Draco had no real way of knowing. He wasn’t a legilimence like his godfather, in fact he really didn’t have anything that made him stand out from other wizards, but that was probably good.

“It’s a cloak that makes you invisible.” Draco couldn’t stop himself from explaining, wanting to answer before Ron, who gave him a mock annoyed glare. The blond smirked smugly over at him for a moment before continuing to speak. “Most likely, c’mon, try it on!” Draco was unable to hide the excitement in his voice as he said it and he slid off of his bed, walking over to Harry’s so he could see the cloak a bit better.

The raven-haired boy looked at the blanket-like cloak in his hands for a few moments before finally shrugging slightly and threw it over his shoulders. The effect was instantaneous, Harry’s entire upper body that had the cloak wrapped around became completely transparent, not even a vague outline of the boy was visible. Draco’s jaw dropped in shock and his eyes widened, he had never heard of an invisibility cloak working  _ that _ well. There was always supposed to be a light shimmer in the air, because things couldn’t just completely disappear from view, they were still  _ there _ , there was no way for someone to be there but to show no trace of it. 

“It is an invisibility cloak! Look!” Ron yelled and Draco glanced over at him because sure, he was right, it was an invisibility cloak, but surely the redhead could tell it wasn’t an ordinary one, there was something more to it, something beyond what any average (or even above-average) wizard could achieve. The blond looked at the other boy for a few seconds, waiting for him to notice his expression, but when the redhead didn’t even glance in his direction he gave up and looked away again to see Harry standing in front of the mirror in their dorm that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. He disappeared seconds later however when he pulled the cloak up over the rest of him. It looked as if the raven-haired boy had simply disapparated, though that was impossible, nobody under the age of sixteen could even attempt to do that.

“There’s a note lying there!” Ron yelled suddenly, pointing towards the floor near where Harry’s feet likely were, where there was indeed a small slip of parchment lying folded up on the carpet. “A note fell out!” 

Harry appeared once again, shimmering into existence as he pulled the cloak off his shoulders and knelt down to pick up the parchment. As the raven-haired boy unfolded the note and walked over to sit back down on the bed beside Draco, Ron stood up and hesitantly took the cloak, holding it tightly in his hands. He wandered back to his own bed and sat down rather heavily, just staring at the piece of silvery silk cloth that looked almost like a blanket in fascination. His eyes were wide in amazement, which Draco could understand, even he, who came from an incredibly wealthy wizarding family with a high status in the world, had never seen an invisibility cloak, let alone one that worked so well. Still, the blond didn’t actually care too much about the cloak when he glanced at his best friend’s face as he read the note, his expression seemed to be becoming steadily more upset and confused, even after it was obvious he had finished reading it.

“I would give  _ anything _ to have one of these.” Ron said, but Draco didn’t pay him much attention, even if he silently agreed. Harry folded the note back up but instead of placing it to the side he just stared at it, his expression a confusing and concerning mix of troubled and blank. “ _ Anything. _ What’s wrong?” It seemed that Ron had finally noticed his and Draco’s best friend’s silence and troubled look, and he placed the cloak back on Harry’s bed, his interest in it seeming to dwindle in concern for him.

“Nothing.” Harry said, a bit too quickly to be believable, and finally did put the note down, turning to face them. Draco raised an eyebrow slightly at the small smile that looked somewhat forced, and opened his mouth to comment on it. Before he could, however, the door to their dorm bagged open and he spun around on Harry’s bed to see Ron’s twin brothers, Fred and George, standing there with wide grins on their faces. They had sweaters not too unlike his own in colors and style, though instead of a silver letter  _ D _ , one of them had a yellow letter  _ F _ , and the other had a yellow letter  _ G _ knitted onto the front.

“Merry Christmas!” The two yelled and Draco forced himself not to flinch back in surprise at their sudden, loud entrance. For a second all he did was stare at them, his shoulders slightly tense, before Fred spoke up himself in a much more normal voice, releasing all of the tension again.

“Hey, look - Harry and Malfoy got Weasley-Sweaters!” Said Weasley twin grinned even wider as he walked over to Harry’s bed in long strides, picking up the emerald-green sweater that the raven-haired boy, who was sitting beside Draco with a surprised but relatively amused look, had yet to put on. The third-year redhead then looked over at the one Draco was wearing, tilting his head to the side slightly as if curious, and the blond glanced down for a second, though he wasn’t completely sure why. “Harry and Malfoy’s are better than ours. She obviously makes more of an effort if you’re not family.” Draco felt his cheeks burn in a bit of embarrassment, why would Ron’s mother try harder on his sweater than her own children’s? He was a disgraced Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake!

“Why aren’t you wearing your sweater, Ron?” George asked his younger brother and Draco quickly tried to push back his thoughts on the subject, because he really didn’t  _ need _ to focus on it too much at the moment. “C’mon, put it on, they’re lovely and warm.”

The blond looked over at his redheaded best friend just in time to see a scowl pull at his lips and his blue eyes dart down to stare at the maroon sweater in his hands with a look of faint annoyance and hesitation. The expression was rather amusing to look at and Draco couldn’t help but press his lips tightly together so he wouldn’t start grinning. “I don’t like maroon.” Ron said half-heartedly, and with a small sigh that seemed to convey all of his resignation in a matter of seconds, pulled his knitted sweater over his head, messing his fire-red hair up.

“You haven’t got a letter on yours.” George said and Draco blinked as he noticed the same fact. Everyone else had a letter on theirs, except Ron, which was rather strange in the blond’s opinion. “I suppose she thinks you don’t forget your name. But we’re not stupid - we know we’re called Gred and Forge.” Draco had to clamp his hand over his own mouth to stop himself from laughing aloud, but still an amused snort escaped him and George grinned at him, only to look towards the door barely a half a second later when the door once again opened to reveal Percy Weasley, the fourth Weasley who was still at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays.

“What’s all this noise?” The eldest student in the first year gryffindor boys’ dorm room demanded, his voice clipped, though much less strict and annoyed than usual. He had a scarlet red sweater thrown somewhat carelessly over his arm, which was quite odd compared to his usual neat appearance. Fred, instead of answering his brother, grabbed the sweater from his arm and held it out in front of him, inspecting it as if it were extremely interesting to look at.

“P for prefect! Put it on, Percy, c’mon, even Harry and  _ Malfoy _ got one.” Fred exclaimed and as one he and his twin brother all but pounced on their older brother, ignoring his protests as they forced the sweater over his head. In the struggle his normally perfectly styled hair became tousled and slightly tangled, and his glasses were knocked askew, giving him a rather disheveled and uncoordinated appearance, especially with his arms pinned to his sides by the wool sweater. Draco snorted with laughter again, though he didn’t try to hide it that time. 

“And today you’re not going to sit with the prefects.” George said a second later as if he hadn’t just forced Percy into a sweater completely against his will. “Christmas is celebrated with family.” With that the twins grabbed the sleeves, which lacked the occupancy of Percy’s arms, of the red sweater and dragged their brother back out of the dorm-room.

Ron stood up, as did Harry, who was pulling his own green Weasley-sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew in a similar fashion to Percy’s and making his already unruly hair stand up even more. “You comin’ down to breakfast with us, Draco? From what I hear there’s all sorts of special food and gifts down there on Christmas.” The redhead asked, turning to look back at his blond best friend when he noticed he hadn’t stood up with him and Harry.

“I - “ Draco hesitated for a moment and glanced back over the unopened gift still lying at the end of his bed, the gift with wrapping paper he had grown up having at least half of his Christmas presents wrapped in. “I’ll be down in a couple minutes, don’t wait for me. I’ll meet you down there, I have to do something real quick.” He said after a second’s hesitation and a small frown tugged at Ron’s lips but the redhead simply nodded before pulling Harry out of the dorm with him. 

The minute his two best friends left he shakily stood up and walked slowly back over to his bed, picking up the gift he was sure was from his mother with trembling hands. He wasn’t sure what could possibly be in it, his parents both hated him, his father had certainly made that clear and Pansy had said his mother had told her the same thing. Except, maybe his old best friend hadn’t actually received a letter from her and she had simply said all of that to make him feel terrible. The idea hurt, just like everything else to do with the people who he used to think would stick by him through anything, but it was likely, if he really thought about it. His father had always been much stricter about the family name, about him being the perfect son, about him being in Slytherin, than his mother. 

Draco took a deep breath and hesitantly began to unwrap the relatively small gift, only to pause when he remembered the small note, which he grabbed directly and, with still trembling hands, read it: 

_ ‘Draco _

_ I know you likely think this isn’t real, or that I am leading you on with sending you anything, and I suppose I am partially to blame for that if you are feeling that way. I am truly sorry for not trying to reason with your father, though I doubt he will listen to much sense, you know how stubborn he gets. This of course is not an excuse for anything, and I am not asking you to forgive me, for I know I do not deserve it. Still, I apologize for being a rather terrible mother these past few months, and I know I cannot promise to be much better, for as horrible it makes me appear and as much as it pains me to admit, your house does make things slightly more complicated. I am not going to attempt to explain anything at the moment, however, for this really isn’t the time for it, I will try over the summer holidays, but for now all I can say is I’m truly sorry and I hope your holidays are enjoyable. _

_ From, mother’ _

For a few seconds all the blond did was stare at the small note he held clutched tightly in his right hand. He knew his mother’s words technically shouldn’t have made him feel better about her, because she said she still didn’t really accept him for being a Gryffindor, but she had  _ apologized _ for it, and that made the tight feeling in his chest he had managed to mostly ignore for the past three and a half months become lighter. A few tears stung at his eyes despite how hard he tried to hold them back, and he let out a shuddering breath before once again beginning to unwrap the gift, his hands trembling even more than before.

As he expected, the gift wasn’t exactly as special or expensive as her gifts usually were, but still, the fact that she had sent him anything made him not care in the slightest, unlike how he would have reacted just a year prior. A new, rather elegant looking quill and a pot of ink that seemed as though it might refill itself when emptied lay inside the small, narrow box. Draco’s hands seemed to abruptly stop trembling, and a tiny smile spread across his lips. Despite the rather basic thing inside the present, it told the young Malfoy that his mother still at least somewhat cared about him.

* * *

The rest of the day was incredibly different from Christmas at Malfoy Manor. There was no requirements to make casual, polite conversation with people he didn’t know, there were no awkward greetings, it was all just… laid back and comfortable and had a sort of controlled chaos to it that just made Draco feel like he was actually at home, surrounded by people who actually cared, even if many didn’t truly know him.

Breakfast was filled with random snacks exploding and raining all sorts of things over the few students that had decided to stay in the castle over the Christmas holidays, people laughing at jokes someone else said, gifts being admired and Fred and George pulling pranks on basically everyone in the Great Hall and somehow getting away with it. Draco was pretty sure by that point that the teachers all secretly thought the twins were brilliant, which he couldn’t blame them for, they certainly were hilarious. Seriously, how could his parents have thought the Weasleys were terrible? Sure, Percy was rather annoying and stuck-up occasionally, but he was still rather nice, and hadn’t said anything rude to Draco, or anyone else really, besides maybe taking house points or yelling about how he was a prefect. Ron was certainly a much better friend than any of the other ones the blond had ever had, and his mother gave Draco, whose family had been rivals with hers for decades, centuries even, a hand-knitted sweater and home-made fudge simply because he wasn’t expecting anything from his own parents.

This realization made Draco wonder why exactly she had knitted Harry a sweater, sure, he had noticed Harry’s pile of gifts was rather small, but why would The-Boy-Who-Lived receive such a small amount of gifts? He had saved the Wizarding World, probably the Muggle World as well, for Merlin’s sake! Wasn’t he supposed to have relatives who admired and adored him? Wasn’t he supposed to have hundreds, thousands of people who looked up to him and likely sent him loads of little things for Christmas, and every other holiday imaginable? The blond however shoved most of those thoughts to the back of his mind rather quickly because he really couldn’t think properly about things like that, especially not when he was being pelted with snowballs by the Weasleys and Harry later that afternoon.

By the time it was time to go to bed, which was much later than usual, though whether that was because they lost track of time playing chess in front of the common room’s warm fire, or just because nobody told them they had to go to bed wasn’t exactly certain, Draco felt as if he couldn’t keep his eyes open a moment longer. For once, his thoughts didn’t keep him awake at all and the moment he buried himself in his four-poster’s thick, warm red blankets he slipped into a deep sleep, not even waking up when later that night Harry tripped over his own trunk as he snuck out of their dorm to explore the restricted section of the library with his invisibility cloak. Of course, that’s not all the raven-haired boy did that night, though for most finding a mirror in an abandoned classroom wouldn’t be considered anything of importance.

* * *

“You did what? Harry, you could have been caught!” Draco said, his voice rather loud, ignoring the last part, about the mirror, Harry had told them. Several of the other students glanced their way at his outburst, but quickly looked away again before the blond could notice their gazes. Harry had, not even five minutes prior, walked into breakfast later than Draco and Ron, neither of which thought they needed to wake him up at eight if he was still asleep. The raven-haired boy had then basically thrown himself onto the bench beside Ron and had, in a voice that could just barely be considered hushed, explained that the night before he had snuck out of Gryffindor tower under his new invisibility cloak, gotten into the restricted section of the library to search for anything to do with Nicholas Flamel, had almost gotten himself caught by Filch and had then found some sort of mirror that had showed him his entire family.

“You could’ve at least woken us up too, mate.” Ron said, glancing over at Draco and then Harry with a slightly annoyed, and almost hurt, look on his face. The redhead seemed more interested in the magic mirror than the fact that if Harry had been caught not only would he have gotten in trouble, likely got detention, and lost Gryffindor points, he also almost definitely would have had his cloak confiscated. 

“Yeah, and how would that have helped, Ron? We all would’ve been out of bed! That would’ve been even worse! And Merlin knows you two are loud and incredibly terrible at sneaking around.” Draco snapped, though he did make sure to speak at a much more normal volume that time. He had learned his lesson of not being careful when it came to what they were talking about when Pansy had (most likely) told Filch where they would sneak out to the night they first saw Fluffy.

“You’re basically as smart as Hermione, you could’ve come up with some spell or something to help us escape if we were almost caught.” The look on Ron’s face made it seem like he meant each of those words, which confused Draco immensely. Sure, he was second in their year, but still, the redhead had seen him the last time Filch had almost found them, he had completely frozen up. His mind had gone blank, he couldn’t think of anything besides the fact that he would be expelled and sent home, he hadn’t even thought of  _ needing  _ some sort of spell to help.

“How about you guys come with me tonight, I want to show you the mirror.” Harry said after Draco didn’t respond for a full thirty seconds. Said blond looked up from his eggs, which he had begun poking at with his fork, and stared at the boy across from him in shock. 

“What? Harry -” Draco started to say but before he could finish he was cut off by Ron, whose blue eyes had lit up at Harry’s suggestion. Whether the sudden enthusiasm came from the prospect of getting to see the mirror itself, or from being able to do something risky again, he wasn’t completely sure, though likely it was a rather even mix of both.

“I would love to see your mum and dad.” The redhead smiled widely at his raven-haired best friend, and even though Draco really didn’t want to risk sneaking out again, he couldn’t deny that he felt the same as Ron on that matter. He wanted to at least see what Harry’s parents looked like. The-Boy-Who-Lived didn’t appear to have any pictures of his parents, or of his family at all, now that he thought about it. It was rather strange for him to not at least have one small picture that he had with him, even Draco, whose father had disowned him on the first day of school, had a picture of himself and his parents on the small table beside his bed.

“I want to see them too.” Draco admitted, nodding slightly as he heaved a small sigh and looked back down at his plate. “But you two have to promise to be careful so we don’t even risk being caught.” He added and both of the other gryffindor boys nodded without any type of argument. 

“I wanna see your families too, even if yours is terrible, Draco. I want to see all the Weasleys, Ron, you could show me all your brothers and just everyone in general. And I want to know if your father looks like I picture him, Draco, all angry and pale and tall.” Harry said and Draco couldn’t help but scoff in amusement, slowly shaking his head. He knew one thing for sure, Harry really did not want to meet his father.

“You can see my family anytime,” Ron said, glancing over at Draco for a split second with an amused glint in his eyes. “Just come visit me over the summer, mum would be delighted to have you there. You too, Draco. I’m sure I’ll be able to convince mum and dad to let you stay most of the summer, if you don’t want to deal with your jerk of a dad the entire time. Mum always loves having someone else to mother besides my siblings and I. Anyways, Harry, the mirror might only show dead people... Bummer too that you didn’t find anything out about Flamel… Take some of the bacon, why aren’t you eating anything?” Draco had to suppress a laugh at the redhead’s sudden subject change to food, though the blond did realize he had a point. Harry had barely anything on his plate, and all of what was on it looked untouched.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked then, at practically the same time as Ron, who smiled briefly at him before turning a concerned look in Harry’s direction. “You look a bit out of it.” Harry shrugged meekly in response and hesitantly took a piece of bacon off the gold platter in the middle of the table, nibbling at it as if he’d rather do anything else. A concerned frown tugged at Draco’s lips, but he didn’t say anything else to Harry about his sudden shift in mood after that.

* * *

“It’s cold!” Ron groaned, drawing out the  _ O _ for at least five seconds as he scowled and somewhat dramatically rubbed his arms with his hands. They had been walking, all three of them under Harry’s invisibility cloak, through the castle for what felt like hours. Maybe it had been hours, Draco really didn’t know anymore. Harry had dragged both Ron and Draco out of their beds only about a half an hour after the blond had fallen asleep and had led them first to the library and then, almost aimlessly, led them through the corridors of Hogwarts. Occasionally the raven-haired boy would pause and look around in slight confusion before turning a corner that seemed almost randomly chosen.

“Well then maybe you should’ve actually put something besides a bathrobe on over your pajamas.” Draco snapped back at the redhead, rolling his silvery grey eyes in annoyance despite the fact that he secretly agreed with him. The stone walls and floors of Hogwarts seemed to hold the chill of every winter since they were built, cooling the air in the corridors all day and all night long, making everyone in the castle feel as if they were standing outside in the middle of a blizzard unless they wore way too many layers of clothing to appear normal for being indoors. 

“I didn’t expect us to be out this long! And it’s not this cold during the day, or in the common room! Speaking of which, can we-” Ron’s rather angered sounding reply to Draco was cut off by Harry, who had been looking intently at the walls as they walked only to turn around abruptly and glare slightly at Ron.

“No! We’re not going back to the tower. We’re almost there, I know it.” The raven-haired boy snapped, his green eyes glinting angrily behind his round glasses. Ron raised his hands in a type of playful surrender, though Draco could see the hint of concern for their best friend glimmering in his blue eyes. Harry wasn’t even as caught up in the whole Fluffy thing as he was this. Just how strongly he objected to not finding the mirror again was strangely unlike him and, though Draco hated admitting it, the redhead was not the only one worried about what his new behaviour could mean.

Without waiting for any sort of verbal response from either of his friends Harry started back down the corridor, forcing the other two to hastily follow him so they would stay under the invisibility cloak with him. None of them said much after that, not even when they almost walked straight through a ghost when she flew out of a wall without any kind of forewarning. Draco wasn’t sure if ghosts could feel someone passing through them, or if only the person doing so could feel the shift of temperature and thickness of the air when they walked through one, but he did know that he really didn’t want to find out. 

“Here!” Harry suddenly called out excitedly, a bit too loudly to be considered careful, and pulled Draco and Ron towards a door beside a suit of armor to their left that looked as if it simply led into one of the many abandoned classrooms at Hogwarts. “This is it!” The raven-haired boy reached out and pulled the door open, stepping through the doorway and slipping out from under the cloak in his haste to get inside.

“Harry!” Draco hissed in slight annoyance and worry as he too stepped into the room that did indeed look like an abandoned classroom with its desks and chairs that had thick blankets of dust covering them. His eyes skimmed over the room, taking in every last detail, attempting -for no particular reason beside curiosity- to find out which class had been taught in there before it had been left alone when the professor teaching it retired. He guessed it was likely a Care of Magical Creatures or Transfiguration classroom, judging by the assortment of small empty animal cages that were pushed up against a wall, though it likely hadn’t been that for at least five years judging by the completely disused look everything in the room had besides the thing leaning against the far wall that Harry had immediately gone for.

The mirror looked even more impressive in person than what the raven-haired boy had described earlier that day at breakfast. Its reflective glass surface glinted in the pale silver moonlight shining in through one of the classroom’s windows, the gold framing of it had hundreds of tiny runes carved into it in a delicate sort of pattern, and the words at the top were all lowercase and read in an intricate, slightly unusual font, spelling out words that Draco was sure were not in any known language:  _ erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi _ . Without fully realizing he had moved, Draco found himself standing beside Harry in front of the strange, ceiling-high mirror, looking at it with his head tilted to the side in confusion and concentration. The surface of the glass seemed to shimmer slightly, but despite that the reflection it showed wasn’t any different than an average mirror’s would have been. 

“You see?” Harry asked and Draco furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he continued to try and see something different about his reflection, but still all he saw was himself, Harry, and Ron, who had wandered over just seconds after the blond. There was nobody besides the three of them reflected in the mirror, nobody with long red hair as Harry had described or with messy black hair and glasses, besides Harry himself, of course. Draco shook his head in response to the question his best friend had just asked him and Ron, not exactly sure how to verbally say he couldn’t see any of Harry’s family, or anyone else for that matter.

“I don’t see anything.” _ Well, I suppose you could say it like that. _ Draco thought in mild amusement, but didn’t say anything in response to Ron’s words. Then again, he couldn't have anyways if he wanted to because Harry answered the redhead himself barely a second after he had finished speaking.

“Look a bit closer! Look at all of them… there’s so many…” Harry’s voice was excited, but there was a slight tremor in it. It wasn’t exactly easy to tell whether the trembling came from sadness or just even more excitement, and Draco decided it really didn’t matter much either way because he was sure he did feel both of those emotions either way, even if he only showed one.

“I… only see us three, Harry.” Draco said, glancing over at the raven-haired boy with the same concerned glint Ron had in his eyes just a little bit earlier that night. Either something was seriously up with Harry at the moment, or the mirror only showed certain people things. He hoped it was the latter, but he honestly wasn’t completely sure.

“You have to really look. C’mon, stand right here.” Harry said and tugged Ron towards him a bit, moving to the side so that the redhead could stand where he had been just seconds earlier. The confused look on Ron’s face stayed in place for a few seconds before it morphed into a look of shock and a small grin tugged at his mouth. His eyes seemed to light up slightly and he took a tiny step closer to the mirror in a sort of fascinated trance.

“Bloody Hell!” Ron exclaimed and a relieved expression flashed across Harry’s face, a grin accompanying it.

“Do you see your whole family standing around you?” The raven-haired boy demanded eagerly as he stepped forward as well so he was right next to Ron. Said redhead shook his head at the question, the grin on his face widening ever so slightly.

“No, I’m alone. I look different though, older, and… I’m Head Boy!” Ron’s voice had the same excited tone to it as Harry’s, though it seemed less because he was happy, and more as if he longed for what he was seeing to be true.

“ _ What?! _ ” Harry and Draco both yelled at the same time, though they both likely had different reasons for it. How could Harry see one thing, while Ron saw something completely different? Most spells didn’t work like that, almost all of them in fact didn’t actually have more than one purpose. So… either whatever charm had been placed on this mirror was unusual, or it really did have only one purpose, one that he couldn’t figure out.

“I’m… I’m wearing a badge like the one Bill used to… and I’m holding the House and Quidditch cups in my hands! And I’m Team Captain!” Ron’s blue eyes looked almost clouded with fascination and the grin on his face was so wide it seemed to stretch from one of his ears to the other. Draco’s frown grew slightly and he looked from Ron to Harry, and then from Harry to the mirror with a somewhat nervous fluttering in his chest. There was something weird about that mirror, something powerful. “Do you think the mirror shows the future?”

The excited look in Harry’s eyes dulled slightly at that and he glanced down at his shoes for a moment, wringing his hands together. “How could it? My whole family’s dead… let me see again -” Harry’s words were cut off by Ron however who, without even looking away from the mirror, interrupted him and shoved him away from himself slightly.

“You had it to yourself all of last night, let me look for a little while longer.” Harry scowled and stepped towards Ron again after having rather quickly regained his balance. 

“You’re just holding the Quidditch-cup, what’s so interesting about that? I want to see my parents!” This time Harry shoved Ron to the side slightly so he could stand in front of the mirror again, his annoyed scowl now an angry glare and slightly bared teeth. Ron stumbled and almost tripped, however, he somehow managed to regain his own balance just about as quickly as Harry and turned to face him with his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“Stop sho- “ The young Weasley was interrupted by Draco who stepped in between the two other gryffindors, a scowl of disapproval on his face. What was this mirror doing to his best friends? He had never seen them so much as argue, now they looked as if they were about to start punching each other. That wasn’t something that just happened without reason! The spells on the mirror weren’t good ones, they did something to you that made you obsessed with what you saw, Draco was sure of that.

“Stop! Both of you! Don’t you two see that this mirror is doing something to you?” He snapped and looked between the two of them, his silver eyes narrowed angrily, though he felt more desperate than angry. “You two are acting mad!” Draco locked eyes with Harry and in that split second the angry, clouded look in his green eyes dissipated and was replaced with a slightly confused glint, all of the tension easing out of him. When he turned his gaze to Ron the same thing happened; his fists unclenched, his blue eyes became clear as if he was freed of an enchantment, and he shook his head slightly.

“What?” Harry mumbled and Draco sighed, looking away from Ron and instead at the mirror, which shimmered slightly in front of him, its image changing and shifting until it looked different. He gulped slightly but he tried to ignore the image that felt like it was trying to lure him in. 

“You two have never even argued before, maybe a tiny disagreement on something, but not argued and most definitely not almost fought. This mirror doesn’t just show you something, it -” A sound outside the abandoned classroom, in the corridor beyond, caused him to break off in the middle of his sentence and he turned away from the mirror abruptly to face the direction of the door. “We need to go. I think that was Mrs. Norris.” He hissed and then walked over to the only exit of the room, kneeling down to pick up the invisibility cloak the three of them had discarded on the dusty floor. Ron and Harry quickly followed him, both still looking confused but also scared as they threw the cloak over themselves and snuck back to Gryffindor tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was strangely difficult to write, I‘m not sure why, and once again I apologize for the jumpy, confusing jumble this became, but I hope it at least makes enough sense to somewhat enjoy and understand what's going on. Also, I'm going to partially blame the writing in this chapter on the fact that I suck at writing Christmas scenes. The next chapter really should be better, I hope. There's going to be a bit more like insight and development I guess you call it into Harry and Draco's friendship because, yeah, you'll see.


	12. Midnight Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to everyone whose commented and left kudos on this! You guys make my day every time I get a notification about it.
> 
> So, I told myself that I was going to try and publish the last chapter of this on the 22nd. I didn't succeed in that, but whatever. My new goal is to finish this by June 13th because on the 14th my draft for the next part of this will be deleted automatically by Ao3 because... yeah. I know I've had a week between each update the past few chapters, but I'm going to try and make them more frequent again. Anyways, I know this chapter isn't exactly long, especially in comparison to the last chapter, and I'm sorry about that, but I hope y'all like it anyways!

Most nights Draco slept perfectly well in the four-poster beds of the first year boys’ Gryffindor Dormitory, but every once in a while there was a night where no matter how long he lay staring at the ceiling or the wall, sleep just wouldn't pull him into its clutches. One of these nights happened just a week or so before the second half of the school year, and he found himself sliding out of his bed and wandering downstairs to the Common Room. He hadn't been expecting anyone else to be down there when he came in, so he stopped short when he saw a lamp lit near an armchair and the fire still blazing, though it was much weaker than it had been four hours previously when he had last been down there, attempting to beat Ron at chess and failing miserably. A small figure sat curled up in the armchair closest to the fireplace, features rather indiscernible in the relative darkness the Common Room was in beside the fact that the figure was obviously rather small and had unruly, somewhat curly, short hair.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” The voice coming from the armchair was soft, and even though he recognized who the speaker was immediately, he still jumped slightly at being spoken to. Harry turned his head away from the slowly dying flames in the fireplace and looked over at Draco, an indecipherable glimmer in his green eyes behind his round glasses, which he had on as if he hadn’t taken them off to sleep in the first place. Then again, thinking back on it Draco wasn’t exactly sure Harry even had fully gone to bed that night, he had simply followed him and Ron up into the dorm-room and changed into his pajamas before sitting down on his bed, not lying down. It hadn’t struck the blond that perhaps he hadn’t just sat there for a few moments before actually going to bed, but had instead gotten back up when he thought the other two currently in the dorm were asleep and snuck back down to the common room.

“No…” Draco admitted and sighed, stepping towards the sofa beside the armchair Harry was on. “How long have you been down here?” Harry shrugged slightly in response to the question and looked away from Draco again, directing his gaze towards the flickering orange and red flames. His green eyes looked like molten gold in the firelight, as if they had changed into something unusual, but awe-inducing. The lightning shaped scar on his forehead stood out vividly against his skin, small streaks of pale ivory against dark olive, like it had been painted on by a skilled artist. 

“Not sure, I didn’t really look at the clock before I came down.” Harry said after a few seconds of silence and Draco sat down on the couch, leaning against the armrest closest to the armchair the raven-haired boy was curled up on and pulling his legs up onto the cushions beside him. He sat like this often, though he usually had a book propped open or his wand in his hand, small sparks flying from its tip. “Probably a few hours though, judging by how low the fire is.” The blond tilted his head to the side slightly and nodded somewhat as he watched the flames crackle and the wood slowly burn and break apart, sending small bursts of tiny golden sparks up into the air.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Draco asked eventually and once again Harry shrugged in response, not giving the other gryffindor an actual answer. That seemed to be his response when he didn’t know what he should stay, or how he should phrase what he meant. The blond certainly had his suspicions on what his words would be if he did speak and sighed in a bit of resignation. “And please tell me you’re not still wanting to sneak out look at that mirror, it - ”

“I know! And that’s not it… not really.” Draco looked over at him to see blazing green eyes looking directly into his own, a slightly nervous glimmer shimmering in their depths despite the obvious attempt at hiding it. The look in his eyes confused the young Gryffindor and he found himself tilting his head to the side in confusion for a moment, not fully capable of speaking for some odd reason.

“Then… what is it?” He asked and Harry broke eye-contact, looking down at his hands instead, like maybe they’d give him a way to answer his best friend’s question properly. Eventually he just shrugged, for the third time since Draco had come downstairs, and glanced over at him before looking back at the fire with a slightly distant look in his green eyes. Harry seemed to have that look on his face rather often, though it usually came when his parents were mentioned, as if his mind was trying to bring up pictures of them, but only succeeding in pulling him from everything going on as he concentrated subconsciously.

“I don’t know exactly. Why couldn’t  _ you _ sleep?” Draco looked down at his own hands which looked even paler than usual against his dark blue pajamas in the front of the fire in the otherwise dark common room. His mind however wasn’t focusing on his surroundings anymore, it had gone back to where it had been when he had come downstairs, back in front of that mirror.

“I… You know how I said the mirror we found seems to corrupt you and make you obsessed with it? I can’t get it out of my head.” That got Harry to turn back to face him, his eyes wide in surprise and shock. He obviously had not been expecting that to be the reason his blond best friend was having difficulty sleeping, which was likely to blame on the fact that he had basically been berating him about said mirror ever since the night he had seen it. Then again, perhaps that was the reason for that. He himself felt drawn to it, and just that feeling of longing that lingered in the back of his mind, despite the fact that he had only glimpsed his reflection in the mirror for a few brief seconds, terrified him in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

“Did you see something in it?” The raven-haired boy’s voice was soft, and curious, and Draco avoided his piercing emerald gaze, feeling as if it could see his every emotion when he locked eyes with it. The assumption was rather strange, and not possible for Harry seeing as he couldn’t do such things, but still the blond kept his silver eyes trained on the flames dancing in the grate of the stone fireplace, casting unusual shadows along the walls. He took a small, slightly shuddering breath and wrung his hands together in his lap for a moment, not immediately answering the question his best friend had asked.

“Yes… I… it’s a bit confusing and I’m honestly not completely sure what it means or…” The blond trailed off and let out another shaky breath, leaning further on the corner of the scarlet red couch and wishing he would just sink into the cushions. Harry’s gaze continued to bore into him, his green eyes alight with curiosity and confusion behind his round glasses, which reflected Draco’s pale face and glinting platinum hair back at him. He opened his mouth to begin asking the question Draco knew he would ask next, but he wasn’t given a chance to finish because the blond had already begun answering it. “I… I saw us… and Ron, and Hermione, and… and I think all of our close families. Like, your parents, and Ron’s siblings and parents, and Hermione’s parents, and… and mine. But… there was something different about all of us… and them. I don’t… my parents looked proud of me. Ron’s family didn’t seem as poor, and… and I… I don’t think you had your scar. I don’t know what any of it means…”

Harry’s eyes grew wider and wider as Draco spoke, his mouth slowly opening in a look of confusion and shock, and his eyebrows knit together like they always did when he was trying to figure something out that he couldn’t understand. “I…” The raven-haired boy hesitated slightly and frowned, obviously not sure what to say in response to the rather jumbled description Draco had given him of what he saw in the mirror. “That’s not all that’s bothering you, is it?” Draco blinked and then looked back down at his hands as he continued to wring them in his lap, making his knuckles stand out against his pale skin like splotches of white paint. 

“No… but the mirror isn’t the only reason you’re down here either, is it?” For a moment Harry just looked at him in surprise before nodding ever so slightly, not uttering a single word in response. “What’s been bothering you besides that?” The dark haired Gryffindor hesitated again, running his hand nervously through his thick, curly mess of hair and momentarily making his scar completely visible to Draco. His green eyes glinted again, the lenses of his glasses capturing the light of the flickering flames and making them shimmer as if they were mini lakes.

“It’s nothing, just… It’s finally… It feels like it’s finally fully sunk in that this place is my home now, at least till the summer holidays. I finally have a new life, and it doesn’t actually feel like a dream anymore. Practically all my life I’ve wished for something different, for someone to come and take me away from my aunt and uncle. In a way I did get that, plus more than I’d ever thought I’d have.“ A small smile replaced the frown on his face and Harry looked over at Draco with a slight shimmer in his eyes. The blond couldn’t quite place the emotion behind the shimmer, but still it made the slight constant weight on his chest ease slightly. “I never had friends before Hogwarts… now I have three of the best friends I could ask for…”

Draco stared at his best friend for a few moments, surprise etched all over his face, written in his silver eyes. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face and all of the tension that had been trapped in him since Christmas melted away like snow when a warm spring breeze blows in and the sun starts shining brightly again. His hands relaxed in his lap, ceasing their anxious wringing, and he ran his left hand through his hair briefly as he met Harry’s emerald green eyes that continued to shimmer in the flickering orange and red firelight. The raven-haired boy smiled a bit wider and then looked away again, eyes focused on the fire as he fidgeted with the hem of his dark green Weasley-Sweater. 

“I… Well, you saw what happened with my friends, so you know about them…” Draco hesitated slightly and then frowned as he continued to look directly at Harry, not averting his gaze for even a second. “But, why didn’t you have friends before? You’re Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived!” The smile on the other boy’s face faded slightly and he fiddled with his glasses as if he were adjusting them. It was a nervous habit Harry, and most other people Draco knew who wore glasses, had.

“That doesn’t mean much in the muggle world, Draco. Especially not to my aunt and uncle, so automatically also not to my cousin.” Harry’s voice had grown quiet and a small frown had found its way onto his face as he spoke. His eyes seemed to darken slightly, as if the flames were dying down in the fireplace, even though they remained just as bright, and a small confused frown tugged at Draco’s lips as well. The way the other boy said the words  _ aunt _ , _ uncle _ , and _ cousin _ set something off in the blond’s mind. He sounded as if he both hated, feared and, though much less prominent in his tone, respected them. There was no love, or affection, in the way he spoke of them, only dislike, in a way that didn’t make sense to Draco because he may not like his father at the moment, but he was still his family and he still loved him. The blond had never heard anybody speak of their relatives in the way his best friend was, and it just seemed so… off to him.

“Why wouldn’t it matter to them? They know what you did, even if the rest of the muggles don’t!” Harry looked over at him and the look in his eyes was even stranger than his tone of voice, it was a practiced sort of blank that was meant to hide what one truly felt. Draco had only seen it once before on the other boy’s face, right before they were all sorted. Back then he hadn’t thought about why Harry was the only person who looked so guarded and almost emotionless before all of that, hadn’t thought about why when he had first met Harry he had thought he was even poorer than the Weasleys with his slightly scratched and bruised appearance, his small stature and his incredibly too large clothes. He hadn’t thought about why Harry had always looked at him and Ron as if he expected them to yell at him and then never speak to him again until the night they had encountered the three-headed dog together.

“They hate magic, wizards, everything to do with it. That... includes me.” Harry shrugged slightly and the formerly blank expression changed into a partially resigned, partially amused expression. His family hated him? Why? For a moment Draco felt tempted to ask, because it just didn’t make sense to him. Even if they hated magic, why did they hate their nephew? Just because he had magic? The blond opened his mouth, intending to speak, but no words came out and he just sighed, letting silence fall between them again, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire.

Eventually Harry stood up and walked towards the winding staircase that led up to the dormitories, pausing just before the first stone step. “You comin’ back up?” His voice was soft, as it had been when Draco had first come downstairs and the blond stood up from the couch, following Harry and then wandering up the stairs beside his best friend, who didn’t speak again after that beside to whisper goodnight as he climbed into his bed and practically disappeared beneath the thick, scarlet red blankets. 


	13. Scarlet and Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's kind of bad (at least certain parts of it are really bad), so I'm sorry about that. Also, so much for updating sooner than a week later... Sorry about that too...
> 
> Also, it's Pride Month now! I'll probably write something for that at some point, but at the moment I still have school stuff to do...

Draco was sure he had heard the name Nicolas Flamel somewhere before, most likely from his father, but despite the desire to know who the man was, he really hadn't tried to figure it out over the Christmas Holidays, a fact which Hermione was  _ not _ happy about. They had been searching for months now, but still they hadn’t found so much as one mention of him in any of the books they had read so far, which had to have been at least a couple hundred at that point, not counting the ones they had just flipped through in case there was something about the man who had something to do with all of this. How could there be nothing about someone who was connected to Dumbledore and whose connection with said Headmaster made it so there was a giant three-headed dog guarding a trapdoor in Hogwarts?

The others seemed to have been thinking so as well and had all, even Hermione, begun to lose motivation in finding out what was going on. Harry was once again busy with quidditch practice two days a week and therefore wasn’t around quite as much. Hermione, who was worse than anyone Draco had ever met when it came to doing something besides studying, even Theo and he himself, seemed to constantly be in the library. She was always either trying to find something about Nicholas Flamel, or she was studying for their finals exams which were still months away. The only person who really stuck by him as much as before was Ron, who really seemed to hate the library but still went if he, Hermione, or (rarely) Harry asked him to, who snapped at the “Snake Squad”, as the redhead had dubbed Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Crabbe, and Goyle, whenever any of them said even one bad thing about any of them, who was even more persistent on getting all of them to eat than Draco was. 

The insults seemed to have both died down and increased at the same time over the past months however. Before, he had been the Slytherins’ main target, but now they seemed to have grown somewhat bored with it and had started picking on Ron, Neville, Hermione, Harry, and pretty much anyone else who didn’t fit into their idea of “proper” witches and wizards. Of course, that didn’t mean they didn’t still pick on Draco, though it had grown much more subtle and more with indirect insults, that also were meant to hurt his friends. The Slytherins weren’t the only ones that seemed to enjoy making Draco feel bad himself, though none of the other houses said anything about it. Their confusion, distrust and quite often just plain dislike was expressed in small sneers sent his direction, in glares out of the corners of their eyes, in “accidental” shoves that ended with him usually not so gracefully losing his books, stumbling into a wall or landing on the ground while the other students, most of them older than him, laughed and walked on without looking back. 

A third-year Ravenclaw had gotten a Curse of Bogies sent his way by Ron, who had actually successfully learned it, after he had knocked Draco over, scattering his textbooks everywhere. Somehow he had not been caught, for which the young Malfoy was grateful, not just because Gryffindor seemed to lose enough points as it was and didn’t need anyone hexing or cursing other students, but also he didn’t want Ron to get in trouble because of him. His redheaded best friend, however, didn’t seem to care in the slightest that he could get detention or lose Gryffindor house points as long as, in his words, “Those bastards leave you alone.”

Nobody really did, but after that they did at least seem to stay away from Draco, Ron, Harry, and Hermione a bit more than before. The Gryffindors meanwhile, who at first had looked at him like he didn’t belong in their house at all and should be thrown out, had begun to treat him like one of their own, though, Percy still tended to take points from him, Harry, and Ron for testing out charms and other spells in the Common Room.This led to the four of them beginning to play chess when they didn’t have class or homework instead of practicing spells so they didn’t get in any more trouble. When all four of them were in the Gryffindor Common Room at once they would often play in teams of sorts, with one person helping their partner (it certainly made it so Harry didn’t lose  _ every _ game they played). When it was just two or three of them together they played one-on-one games and the winner played the one who wasn’t playing the previous round (or just kept playing the same person if it was just two of them, which was usually Ron and Draco). 

As it turned out, Hermione was rather terrible at chess, which made it one of the few things in the world that she wasn’t perfect at. Ron was overjoyed when they had discovered this, and he tended to boast about it every single time they played because he never lost to her, or any of them really. He had only been beaten in a game twice by Draco over the past six months, other than that he was unbeatable both in their dorm and in most of the rest of Gryffindor House. Hermione seemed convinced she could beat him at least once before the school year ended, and had decided to attempt it once again on the first Friday night of March while Harry was off at Quidditch practice and Draco was finishing up a Potions essay that was due the following Thursday.

“Watch your knight.” Draco said off-handedly when he glanced up from his Potions book and over at the chessboard set up on the couch closest to the fireplace between two of his best friends. He quickly went back to writing the fourth paragraph of the one-and-a-half foot log essay on Wiggenweld potions he had to write, wanting to get it over with so he could move on to his other homework assignments.

“My knight is fi - thanks, Draco. Knight to B9.” Hermione scowled slightly down at the board as her (or Draco’s technically since she was using his set to play) second knight moved to the square she had told it to. Then she gave the blond draped over the armchair across from them a small smile and he grinned back, dipping the tip of the quill his mother had given him into the dark blue ink that filled the bottle of ink he had open.

“You’re welcome, ‘Mione. Try and look at each of Ron’s pieces to see what each of them could do to yours before playing, it’ll help you a bit.” Draco said as he once again continued to write, only to be stopped mid-word by the Portrait Hole abruptly swinging open.

Harry stormed into the Common Room, immediately heading straight towards his three best friends with a both scared and angry look on his face. Draco quickly turned around in his armchair so that he was no longer lying sideways over the two armrests and placed his homework on the ground beside his feet. His second male best friend’s raven hair was even more messed up than it usually was after Quidditch practice, as if he had also anxiously ran his hand through his dark curls multiple times on his way up from the pitch. Harry’s emerald green eyes were darker than normal behind his round glasses, his eyebrows were scrunched tightly together, his lips were pressed into a tight, thin line, and his shoulders were tense.

“Stay quiet for a second,” Just as Draco was about to open his mouth to ask the raven-haired boy what was wrong Ron spoke, not looking up from the chessboard when Harry sat down heavily on the low table that stood in the middle of the half circle of armchairs and couches in front of the large fireplace. “I need to concen-” Ron broke off abruptly when he glanced Harry’s way and saw the expression on his face. “What’s wrong? You look terrible, mate.” 

Draco nodded and a frown tugged at his lips as he leaned forward slightly, fiddling nervously with a loose thread on his left sleeve. For a few short seconds Harry didn’t answer the redhead, instead running his hand through his hair as he tended to do when he was nervous. “Snape is going to be the referee for the next Quidditch match.” He said finally and Draco’s eyes widened in shock, while Ron’s jaw dropped and Hermione blinked, a look of perplexion flashing across her features.

“ _ Snape _ ?!” Draco demanded, his voice rising slightly in volume, causing several Gryffindors near them to look up from whatever they were doing in surprise and confusion and glance their way. “Why would he be refereeing? He has never had any interest in Quidditch.” Harry shrugged slightly, the look on his face suggesting that he himself had been thinking the same thing since he had been told.

“Don’t play.” Hermione told Harry just seconds after Draco spoke and he glanced over at her in slight surprise. 

“Say you’re sick.” Ron then suggested and the blond turned his gaze on him, then Harry again.

“Pretend you broke your leg.” Hermione added onto the list of things their best friend could do to get out of the next Quidditch match. She had always seemed like the last person who would lie to get out of something just because someone she didn’t like was involved, but, then again, she had lied to Professor McGonagall to get out of the whole troll incident, so, perhaps that wasn’t true.

“ _ Actually _ break your leg.” Ron corrected and Draco spun around to face him in shock, his jaw dropping slightly as his silvery grey eyes widened. When the redhead saw the look the blond was giving him he simply shrugged slightly and grinned as if he hadn’t just suggested his best friend hurt himself to get out of something.

“No! What? Harry can’t - Snape won’t be able to do anything if he’s refereeing, he’ll be visible the entire time, unlike in the stands. Out on the pitch a lot more people would pay attention to him than they would if he was just in sitting with the rest of the professors. If he’s planning on being the referee, then he isn’t planning to hurt Harry. He might be trying to protect him, maybe whoever jinxed Harry’s broom the first time was someone else, someone he’s trying to stop, or catch.” All three of his best friends gave him slightly annoyed looks, though none of them said anything against him defending Snape, they had given up on it a few weeks ago.

“Yeah, Draco’s right. Sort of. I have to play, Gryffindor doesn’t have a back-up Seeker, so if I don’t play… Gryffindor doesn’t play at all and we automatically lose.” Just as Harry finished speaking the Portrait Hole swung open again and Neville stumbled into the Common Room, almost immediately face planting on the carpet right in front of the entrance to the tower, his legs curled up strangely. 

Draco jumped out of his armchair at the same time as Hermione stood up, accidentally knocking the chessboard off the couch and spilling pieces everywhere. “Hey!” Ron exclaimed when a few of his own chess pieces showered down onto his lap, the amused look that had momentarily flashed across his face at the sight of Neville, whose legs seemed to be stuck together as if glued, turning into an annoyed scowl.The brunette muggleborn grimaced slightly, apologies seeming to flow from her lips seconds later and Draco pulled his wand from his pocket, waving it in his dorm-mate’s direction as he spoke the counter curse to what he assumed was the Leg-Lock Curse. Neville scrambled back to his feet, his face flushed pink in embarrassment and his legs trembled beneath him as if it was difficult to stand.

“What happened?” Draco and Hermione asked at the same time, the latter of which had turned away from Ron and was now facing Neville as well, likely intending to have helped him herself judging by the fact that she was holding her wand in her right hand. She quickly slipped the slim, intricately carved stick back into her pocket and stepped towards the slightly shorter eleven year old boy, placing her hand on his arm and leading him over to the couch she and Ron had just been playing chess on.

“Z-Zabini and Parkinson.” Neville answered with a slightly trembling voice. “They ran into me by the Great Hall… Zabini said he wanted to test the curse out, make sure he could do it properly before he used it on other people.” Draco’s hands balled into tight fists at his sides, the pattern carved into his wand digging painfully into his palm. How could they do something like that? Threatening to hurt someone and insulting someone were very different things from actually physically hurting someone as they had done.

“Go to Professor McGonagall! Tell her!” Hermione urged, her brown eyes glinting slightly as if she was tempted to do what she was telling the boy who had just been hexed by one of the people Draco used to consider one of his best friends. Neville rapidly shook his head, the look on his face showing that he was terrified that either their Head of House wouldn’t believe him or that it would just cause him more trouble with the Slytherins.

“I don’t want even more trouble…” He murmured, voicing what his expression already said. Draco sighed slightly and unclenched his fists slowly, moving to sit down on the table next to Harry, who had an angry scowl on his face. His emerald eyes were even darker than they had been before, anger seeming to blaze like bright flames behind his round glasses.

“You need to defend yourself against them, Neville!” Ron said from beside the boy he was addressing, placing his hand on his shoulder so that he turned to face him. His sapphire blue eyes glinted with a defensive look in them, his lips pressed into a firm, determined line. “They’re used to walking all over people, but that’s not a reason to lay down in front of them and make it easier for them.” Draco nodded and a small, slightly sad smile tugged at his lips, trying to portray his agreeance with the redhead.

“You don’t need to tell me that I’m not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Parkinson already told me that…” Neville tried to suppress a sob, but it escaped in a sort of strangled whimper. Draco frowned and moved to sit on the couch beside the brunet, placing his hand on his other shoulder.

“Hey, don’t listen to them. They’re wrong. Okay? I grew up with them, and all they are are arrogant bullies who act as if they’re better than everyone who really  _ is _ better than them. Don’t let them get to you, that’s how they gain control over us.” Neville looked at him with tear-filled eyes, disbelief evident on his face. Perhaps it was because Draco had never been this friendly to anyone besides Harry, Ron, and Hermione, or perhaps it was because he just didn’t believe what he was saying. Either way, it hurt because he understood both, the first because he really wasn’t the nicest person to most since he tended to ignore people, and the latter because he felt the same about himself after each time the same two Slytherins made fun of, or insulted, him.

“Yeah, you’re worth a dozen Zabini and Parkinsons.” Harry said and Draco glanced his way to see him pulling a chocolate frog out of his robe pocket and handing it to Neville who took it with a slightly shocked look and trembling hands. The raven-haired boy smiled softly, the anger that had been burning in his eyes replaced mostly by a soft, comforting warmth that Draco didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing in people’s gazes because nobody in his life had ever looked at him, or anyone else he knew, like that before Hogwarts. “The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, didn’t it? And where are Zabini and Parkinson? In stinking Slytherin.” 

Draco grimaced slightly at the last part, because even though most of the Slytherins in their year were terrible, the whole house wasn’t filled with bullies and jerks. His aunt, Andromeda, was a Slytherin and he had quickly realized she was one of the nicest people he had ever known, a motherly figure who cared about him even though she hadn’t heard from him for the whole first eleven years of his life. But the blond didn’t say anything because Harry’s words had made a small, weak smile tug at Neville’s lips, and Draco didn’t want to say anything that might make it go away again, so he stayed quiet as he the other boy slowly unpacked the candy Harry had given him.

“Thanks, guys… I think I’ll go to bed now… Do you want the card, Harry? You’re collecting them, aren’t you?” Harry shrugged slightly in response but took the small purple card that was being handed to him as the boy giving it to him stood up and walked slowly towards the winding staircase that led up to the dorms. 

The raven-haired boy smiled after him for a second and then looked down after the chocolate frog card in his hands, a slightly disappointed look flashing across his face when he saw the picture of whose it was. “Dumbledore again.” He said with a small sigh and turned it over in his hands. “He was the first one that I -” Harry’s voice broke off with a small gasp, his green eyes going wide behind the round lenses of his glasses as he stared at the description on the back of the card. Then he looked up at the three other first year Gryffindors that were all sitting on the couch across from him, a sudden hopeful, excited glint in his eyes replacing the shock. 

“ _ I found him! _ ” He whispered excitedly and Draco’s jaw dropped as he realized who he meant just second before he said it. “I found Flamel! I told you I’d heard his name somewhere before. It was on the train ride here. Listen: ‘Professor Dumbledore’s fame comes above all from his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in the year 1945, from the discovery of the twelve uses for dragon blood, and from his work on Alchemy, done together with his partner, Nicolas Flamel.’!” 

Hermione sprang to her feet, an extremely excited look on her face that could rival her expression when they had gotten their marks on their mid-term tests. She was practically trembling with delight and she was smiling so wide that it seemed to be spread from one side of her face to the other. “Wait here!” With those words the brunette ran off, her untameable, long, bushy hair fanning out behind her like a banner as she took the stairs up to her dorm two at a time. Draco, Harry, and Ron all stared after her in shock for a second before glancing cluelessly at each other. Even Draco, who usually had at least some idea what the girl was thinking, didn’t have a single clue as to what she could have run off to grab.

Just seconds later, however, they received an answer to that. Hermione practically flew down the stairs again, a huge, old book clutched in her arms. “I just didn’t think of looking in here!” She whispered excitedly to them as she plopped back down onto the couch where she had been sitting before. “I checked this out from the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading.”

Ron’s eyes went wide in shock, his jaw dropping open. “ _ Light? _ ” He hissed but before he could say anything else Hermione glared at him and held up a hand to silence him. She then went on to quickly flip through the book, eyes scanning each page briefly before moving forward until she finally found what she was looking for. “I knew it! I  _ knew _ it!” She murmured to herself, a grin spreading across her face as she stopped flicking through the pages and placed her index finger on the beginning of a new paragraph towards the middle of the page she had opened to.

“Are we allowed to talk now?” Ron asked in an annoyed voice, raising an eyebrow in Hermione’s direction. The brunette just ignored him and continued to murmur to herself, tracing her index finger along the lines she was reading.

“Nicolas Flamel is the  _ only known creator of the philosopher's stone _ !” Her voice sounded higher than usual, excitement clear in both her eyes and just face in general. Draco furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, the philosopher’s stone sounded familiar, but he didn’t have a clue where from. Harry and Ron both seemed confused as well, so perhaps it was normal to not have a clue what the stone was, except the two other boys tended to be a bit… oblivious at times, so maybe them being clueless didn’t make it logical that he was.

“The what?” Harry, Ron, and Draco all asked at the same time, and Hermione huffed in slight annoyance, giving the last of the three a somewhat disbelieving look as if she thought he at least would know what she was talking about.

“Oh,  _ just listen _ , do you guys ever read?” Draco let out an indignant scoff at that, because come on, everyone knew he read just as much as her, no matter how much he tried to hide and deny it. She pointedly did not look at him as she continued, pausing for only a brief second after his reaction. “Look here, read this.” Hermione pushed the book towards Draco, her finger on the top of a paragraph, and Harry and Ron somewhat reluctantly moved to see the book as well.

_ The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. _

_ There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight). _

“You see?” Hermione said, still sounding excited though also slightly annoyed as the three gryffindor boys finished reading the two short paragraphs. “The dog must be guarding Flamel’s philosopher’s stone! I bet Flamel asked Dumbledore to keep it safe, since they’re friends and he knew that someone was after it. That’s why he wanted to get it out of Gringotts!” It made sense, really, but why would Severus want something that could make him immortal? From what Draco knew, the Head of Slytherin House didn’t want such a thing, perhaps gold, but there were simpler ways to get such things than to steal such a rare thing that was so expertly and strongly protected.

“A stone that can make gold and doesn’t let you die!” Harry’s voice was excited as he said this, his green eyes glinting with a fascinated shimmer. “No wonder Snape’s after it! _ Anyone _ would want that.” Draco shrugged slightly, but said nothing in disagreement, or agreement. In this case there really wasn’t any reason to.

“And no wonder we didn’t find Flamel in  _ Youngest Developments in Magic _ .” Ron said, grinning slightly in amusement. “He’s not exactly the youngest, if he’s six-hundred-sixty, is he? Wait, Draco, didn’t you say something about the dog guarding something that could make you immortal?” With that the redhead looked over at Draco, who blinked at him, his jaw dropping open slightly. 

“I… think so. I was just joking though, I didn’t think it actually would end up being something like that… Honestly, I’m surprised you even remembered I said that, that was months ago.” Ron shrugged slightly instead of responding, the grin still spread across his face.

* * *

The next few days leading up to the Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor Quidditch match were unusually uneventful. The Slytherins left them alone, nothing attacked or broke into the school, Snape didn’t do anything besides his regular sneering at the Gryffindors. Unfortunately, this also meant that they didn’t get any new information on what was going on at Hogwarts. It also likely meant it wouldn’t last because peace like that always ended up being ruined by something. With their luck Hogwarts would be attacked by a pack of werewolves on the next Full Moon. Still, being left alone was kind of nice for a change, even if it would inevitably come to an end.

The Quidditch match, as always, started at about eleven in the morning on the second Saturday of the month. The weather had grown warmer since the last match, the sky above was a brilliant blue, there was barely a cloud in sight, and a soft spring breeze was blowing. Still, despite the fact that it was the perfect day for a good Quidditch match, Draco, Ron, and Hermione were all grim and determined, their wands stored in their robe pockets in case the need arose for them to cast a curse or some other type of spell. Usually Ron and Draco would be excited, practically bouncing on their heels, and Hermione would be ignoring them while Harry just grinned in amusement, but not this time. Then again, that was the usual for when the other house’s teams were playing, not when Gryffindor was playing, so logically they were acting a bit different.

The last (and first) match that the Gryffindor team had played had been the first of the year and Harry’s broom had been jinxed by somebody, causing him to almost be thrown down onto the ground from hundreds of feet in the air, which would doubtlessly have killed him. This had set all of them on edge, especially because the man that three fourths of their quartet suspected to be the one responsible for it was refereeing that game. The fact that Neville Longbottom, who had been known to fall victim to Pansy and Blaise’s bullying, hadn’t been seen since breakfast that morning didn’t exactly ease their nerves either.

“Now, don’t forget, it’s  _ Locomotor Mortis _ .” Hermione whispered to the two boys for what felt like the hundredth time that morning as the three Gryffindors ascended the wood stairs that led up to the section of the Quidditch stands that generally only had Gryffindors sitting in it. Draco repressed the urge to roll his eyes as she reminded them what the spell for the Leg-Lock curse was, though by this point the blond was pretty sure she was reminding herself more than she was him and Ron.

“I  _ know _ .” Ron growled from beside Draco and he glared at the shorter, brunette girl, his blue eyes glinting in clear annoyance. “Don’t nag.” The blond didn’t even try to resist his urge to roll his silver eyes that time, scoffing slightly, because even though he agreed that Hermione really should just lay off them a bit, Ron was a bit oblivious if he didn’t realize she was saying those things for herself. They knew what the plan was, the three of them had discussed it enough whenever Harry wasn’t around that the plan seemed to continue to echo in his mind like Hermione was repeating certain facts they learned to be capable of fulfilling the plan, if the need arose, which Draco quite honestly didn’t think it would.

“It’s important! You need to remember the spell. If you mispronounce even a tiny part of it, the curse could backfire and hurt you, and potentially others!” The muggleborn snapped, though her brown eyes shimmered with a badly hidden concerned light. Ron, who Draco had considered to be relatively oblivious since he had met him, sighed slightly and his blue eyes softened, quite obviously having noticed the worry Hermione was attempting to not let show. Mentally Draco erased his assumption on the redhead’s amount of obliviousness. While Ron may be rather thick and unobservant at times, in general he did notice things that others often didn’t, even if he rarely showed it and made it seem as if he was rather oblivious.

“Yeah, ‘Mione, we know.” The youngest Weasley son said, the annoyance in his voice mostly gone leaving his tone soft and slightly apologetic.

“It’s just you’ve reminded us of that particular fact about twenty times in the past ten minutes.” Added Draco as the three pushed their way through the crowds of students so they could find seats up in the stands where they wouldn’t all be squished so close together that they were practically on each other’s laps like the last time, during the Ravenclaw vs Slytherin match, when they had arrived just a tiny bit later than usual. “If we have to use the curse, which I highly doubt we will since even if Professor Snape was the one behind this, which I still don’t think he is, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to do anything here again, especially not while being the Quidditch referee, we’ll be fine. You’ve said the spell enough times that only a Tongue-Tying jinx would mess up me saying it properly.”

Ron snorted at that and let himself practically fall onto a somewhat large empty space on the bench that would allow the three of them to easily sit down side-by-side. “A Tongue-Tying jinx is the only thing that could mess up your pronunciation on  _ any _ spell, Dray, not just one you’ve heard said a million times.” Draco rolled his eyes at his best friend’s words and sat down beside him, Hermione quickly doing the same.

“Don’t call me that.” The blond said simply instead of agreeing or disagreeing, though there was a small tremor of annoyance in his tone that showed that he truly meant those four words. Ron frowned slightly but sighed and shrugged instead of saying anything in response to that.

“Is that Professor Dumbledore?” Hermione suddenly demanded and Draco looked away from the redhead, following the brunette’s gaze in surprise and disbelief. The Headmaster  _ never  _ came to Quidditch matches, not unless he thought something bad would happen, because… Well, Draco wasn’t exactly sure, but he assumed it was for the same reason as why his father was rarely home: he was busy, had better things to do when he wasn’t required to go to meetings or anything similar.

“Why’s he here? He never comes to the matches!” The young Malfoy demanded when he spotted the tall old man who stood out of the crowd of teachers like a sore thumb. His long silver hair and beard, his bright purple robes, his tall, pointed hat that was covered in what from so far away appeared to be silver specks, though Draco knew they were stars and moons from having seen the man up close the few times he was in the Great Hall at the same time as the students, which seemed rather rare for whatever reason, made him look so different than the other teachers who were much less eccentric.

“No idea, but I’ve never seen Snape look so angry before.” Though Draco hated agreeing with Ron on anything to do with his godfather, he had to admit the redhead was correct about Severus looking angry. In fact, if you wanted a better word to describe the look on the Potions Master’s face, it would probably be considered a more furious or even murderous expression than simply an angry one. “Look - they’re off. Ow!” Ron yelped and jumped to his feet, turning around to face away from the match just as both the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams mounted their brooms and began flying around the pitch.

Draco jumped up from his seat as well and turned to face the same way his redheaded best friend was, expecting to see Pansy or Blaise standing there with smirks and possibly with wands drawn. What he saw however wasn’t at all what he assumed, instead of Slytherins he saw two first year Hufflepuffs, a boy and a girl, both with slightly panicked but determined looks on their faces. “I’m sorry!” The girl, who had red hair a few shades darker than Ron’s and just about the same amount of freckles, with leaf green eyes wide and apologetic, said frantically. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, I didn’t mean to step on the back of your robes! I’m sorry, we’re in a bit of a rush -” She was cut off by the other Hufflepuff however before she could finish, his hand grabbing the sleeve of her robes and starting to drag her away.

“Yeah, there’s some Slytherins picking on Hannah and Neville Longbottom, who for whatever reason was sitting with us Hufflepuffs today. We’re getting a professor.” The Hufflepuff boy with sandy blonde hair and dark brown eyes called back to them as he and the girl resumed their trek towards the teachers’ stand on the other end of the pitch.

“Where?!” Ron and Draco both yelled after them and the two stopped, the sandy-haired boy seemingly slightly impatient and the girl a confusing mix of apologetic and slightly happy. Before the boy, who Draco knew had been sorted just before him, could respond to them the girl faced him and hissed something they couldn’t hear, because of the noise from the match and the ten foot distance between them, at him. He gave her a slightly confused look for a second before nodding and turning away again, continuing his path without the redheaded girl who turned to face them and stopped just about a foot and a half in front of Ron and Draco.

“I’ll show you, c’mon.” She said and then grabbed both of the Gryffindor boys’ wrists, dragging them back the way she’d first come before either of them could say anything. Draco let her though, because if Pansy and Blaise, or maybe Crabbe and Goyle, or both perhaps, were doing something to Neville, or anyone else he wanted to stop them, or at the very least help those they were picking on.

It took the three first years about seven minutes to push their way through the Gryffindors and then Hufflepuffs, many of which had abandoned their seats and were just standing in the Quidditch stands, yelling a large mix of different things. Nobody paid them any attention, even when the girl shoved someone out of the way so they could get past. It was easy enough to see where the Slytherins were the moment they reached the front row of the Hufflepuff section of the stands, their dark green and silver ties and scarves stood out amongst the sea of yellow and black.

Draco immediately recognized Pansy’s short dark hair, Blaise’s short cropped curly black hair, Crabbe and Goyle’s burly frames and Theo’s pale skin and somewhat short, curly brown hair. All five of them were crowded around two others, one slightly chubby, brunet boy with a Gryffindor tie, and the other a slightly taller girl with shoulder length, wavy golden hair and a Hufflepuff tie and scarf. “Hey!” Draco yelled without really thinking and quickly walked towards the group that nobody else was paying attention to. “Leave them alone!”

All seven people looked his way as he, Ron, and the Hufflepuff girl whose name he still didn’t know, approached them, the former two’s hands balled into fists and anger clearly written on their faces. For a split second the blond thought he saw relief flicker across Theo’s face but it was gone the second after it appeared, replaced by a mask of annoyance so genuine-looking it almost made Draco wonder if he had imagined the relief. Somehow though he didn’t even consider the fact that he might have, because he had known Theo ever since his family had moved back to the UK from France, and even though he wasn’t positive that he hadn’t known what he truly acted like towards others, he knew what his genuine and faked expressions looked like, and could tell them apart easily. Still, he couldn’t make sense of why the Slytherin would look relieved to see him when it would almost definitely result in him and his friends getting in trouble.

“Oh, look who decided to show up. What, you defend Longbottom, who's practically a squib, and Hufflepuffs now, Malfoy? Your father would be  _ so _ proud.” Blaise drawled, a smirk on his lips as he stepped away from Neville and the other Hufflepuff, who Draco assumed must have been the girl, Hannah, that the boy who had gone to get a professor had mentioned. Draco swallowed thickly at the sarcasm that was practically oozing from the other boy’s words, and the truth behind it. His father was disappointed enough in him just because he was a Gryffindor, add defending Hufflepuffs and the not exactly strong wizards, and befriending muggleborns to all of that and his father would want to strip him of his Malfoy name, which he had in some senses already done.

“I don’t care what my father thinks of me anymore.” Draco was surprised at the complete and utter truth of that statement, and it seemed as if the Slytherins were as well because for a few seconds none of them came up with a come-back to that.

“Hm, well, he doesn’t care about you either.” Pansy finally spoke, a nasty grin on her face as she turned her glinting brown eyes on Neville again, her wand suddenly in her right hand. Draco’s eyes narrowed as he noticed this and he himself pulled his wand out of his pocket, gripping it tightly as a few different jinxes and curses he could potentially use against any of the Slytherins if they made one wrong move on Neville, or anybody else, flitted through his head. 

“Honestly, Malfoy, if I were you I would fear going back home this summer. From what I’ve heard your father won’t be forgiving of you hanging around bloodtraitors and mudbloods. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t show back up next year.” Blaise pulled himself out of his momentary silence and stepped towards Draco with a smirk that was even worse than Pansy’s grin on his face. “In fact, you’d deserve it if he -”

Before Blaise could finish he was knocked to the ground by Ron, who had all but thrown himself at the Slytherin, effectively tackling him. Without fully intending to Draco let out a laugh of shock and disbelief. He planned to hex Pansy, or Crabbe or Goyle, but before he could even begin to raise his wand Neville did the same thing as Ron, except he threw himself at Crabbe and Goyle, neither of which went down when he did so.They did both stumble back though and knock Pansy onto the ground, causing her to drop her wand.

Ron continued to punch Blaise in the face, an angry sneer on his face, his normally pale, freckled face flushed red as he did so. For a few seconds the Slytherin just stared up at the redhead in shock as he hit him, then he began to fight back and soon the two first years were rolling around on the ground, throwing punch after punch at each other like some sort of organized dance. Ron punched Blaise in the face, and Blaise punched him in the stomach, and so on. Draco was about to cast a Knockback Jinx at Crabbe when he saw him about to kick Neville, who appeared to be knocked out cold on the ground, but before he could he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him, causing him to freeze in place.

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Zabini, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle… What is the meaning of this?” Professor Sprout’s voice demanded from just behind the blond gryffindor, who continued to stay frozen in place.

* * *

“Where have you been, Harry?” Hermione demanded later that evening after she had blown up at the two of them for getting themselves into trouble, only to be interrupted mid-rant by Harry, who had seemingly disappeared after the Quidditch match only to show back up with wind-swept hair and flushed cheeks, fear and anxiousness shining in his green eyes. 

“We won! You won! We won!” Ron cheered before the raven-haired boy could respond, seemingly missing his disheveled and fearful look in his excitement as he clapped him on his back. “And I gave Zabini a black eye! Neville tried to get a hit in with Crabbe and Goyle, but he didn’t exactly succeed. He’s still unconscious, but Madame Pomfrey said he’d be fine. Everyone in the Common Room’s waiting for you - we’re having a bit of a party, Fred and George managed to snag some cake and drinks from the kitchen.”

Harry, somewhat surprisingly, didn’t seem interested at all in the fact that Ron had beat up one of the two main people they always joked about hexing or punching. Whatever had him so shook up must’ve been bad if the fear in them didn’t subside at all with the mention of Zabini getting what he deserved. The look on his best friend’s face was the only reason he didn’t comment on how Ron had lost Gryffindor 25 points because of what he’d done, though technically so had all three of the Slytherins.

“That’s not important right now.” Harry said, sounding slightly out of breath, obviously a bit panicked. “Let’s find a room where we can talk alone, then just you wait and listen to what I have to tell you…” The raven-haired boy dragged them off down the hall and then into the first empty classroom that wasn’t locked (they had learned their lesson with unlocking doors at Hogwarts that were locked months ago), checking to make sure Peeves wasn’t inside before closing the door behind them.

“After the match, when I was putting my broom away, I heard something, so I went to check it out on my broom. I saw Snape and Quirrell. We were right, it  _ is _ the Philosopher’s Stone, and Snape’s trying to force Quirrell to help him. He asked him if he knew how to get past Fluffy - and he said something about Quirrell’s ‘Hocus Pocus’ - I bet there’s even more than just Fluffy guarding that stone, loads of spells probably, and Quirrell would have put up some defensive spells to ward off dark magic that Snape’ll have to break through.” Draco opened his mouth the moment Harry finished speaking, wanting to protest, to say that they must’ve been misunderstanding his godfather’s motives or plans, that he wouldn’t do something like that, but he couldn’t. He would’ve blamed it on Hermione beating him to speaking first, but in reality it was more that deep down he knew that he was disagreeing with them for logicless, stupid reasons.

“You mean, the stone’s only safe as long as Snape doesn’t break Quirrell?” Hermione’s voice was quiet, slightly scared, and even though Draco still didn’t want to admit it, he knew she had a right to. If this really was his godfather, if Severus really was trying to steal something as valuable as the Philosopher’s Stone, then he would succeed.

“It…” Draco started to say, his voice just barely above a whisper, but he stopped. He couldn’t keep denying that there was something wrong about the way Snape was acting, it wouldn’t help anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is kind of random and boring, but literally every single time I wrote "Crabbe and Goyle" in this chapter I first wrote Grabbe, for reasons I don't understand, lol. It got really annoying honestly.


	14. The Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I believe my brother and my best friend are now reading this on here, so hey, guys! Love you! Secondly, I'm so sorry this is like two weeks late! I have an actual plan for when I'm going to update now, so... hopefully I can stick to that!
> 
> So, I'm changing a couple big things that happened in... well, technically both the the 14th and 15th chapter of The Philosopher's Stone (Norbert The Norwegian Ridgeback & The Forbidden Forest). I'm not going to say exactly what, because. well, yeah, but, just saying, couple differences. Also, I realized while rereading this chapter that the movies made a huge change (I mean, most people probably don't care but it really bugs me now.)
> 
> UPDATE ON THE ART FOR THIS: So, on the... third (?) chapter of this I asked if anyone would want to see me attempt to draw characters and scenes from this fic digitally. Lately I've been getting a lot of comments about it, and the amount of support for it despite nobody knowing if I'm good at drawing is giving me a lot of confidence. I sketched out Harry, Ron, and Hermione in my Sketchbook at some point and also sketched a bunch of Draco things, like to get an idea of how I'll draw him, and then redrew all of it on my IPad. The sketches of the Golden Trio aren't exactly the best, and I still haven't drawn them digitally yet, but I'm working on it. Also, I'll add Draco to the drawing so it's the Golden Quartet. Also, I'm working on a comic of this fic in my sketchbook, so we'll see if that ends up getting worked on more. The next chapter, or the one after that, will likely have at least one digital drawing at the top (or where should I put it? I've never done this before...). I hope they're good, I don't want to disappoint anyone with my artistic talent...
> 
> Okay, on from that, I've figured out a new way of how I'm going to write the chapters that are rewritten. I mean, my writing and format and everything will be exactly the same, just the way I rewrite it is gonna be a bit different, though honestly that's not important since I'm the only person it'll really affect. But, whatever, I officially have no classes until September starting at the end of next week, meaning updates will likely grow more frequent once again since I still am not allowed to hang out with my (admittedly few) friends and most places are closed so my parents won't drag me off to places (though I do wish I could swim... but once again, that doesn't matter). The next book in this series (I am currently debating whether I will write an Eighth Year fic for this when I'm finished with all seven books, we'll see by the time I get there.) will almost definitely be out by the end of the month. Note the almost, because I won't make any promises due to me usually messing it up by saying that I will, without a doubt, have something posted by a certain time.
> 
> Anyways, that's the end of this long as hell author's note, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!

The next few weeks were once again relatively calm, at least in the sense that they weren't bothered by any of the other students. The Snake Squad had grown somewhat hesitant to confront them in any way, though Draco suspected it wouldn't last all too long. They would begin their insults and shoving once the teachers stopped paying closer attention to them and their House stopped acting as if they were disgraces for losing them 75 points in one day.

The calm seemed to remind Hermione that they were at school, and had been dragging them all off to the library whenever possible to study for their final exams, which were still weeks away. Ron and Harry complained almost every single time they went, and more often than not would at some point begin talking about something completely unrelated to the homework or class they were working on, but still, they came with every time and didn’t leave until Hermione and Draco did. The latter of the two agreed wholeheartedly with the first, and at times was even more enthusiastic than her, though this mainly came from the fact that he hadn’t studied for the final exams at all before all of this and really wanted to take Hermione’s place as the top of their year, mostly just to annoy her. Okay, and to be able to brag about it a bit, but like, who wouldn’t?

Draco, in an attempt to get Harry and Ron to at least try and study, had come up with a way of getting them to want to know the answers when he or Hermione quizzed them on things. Every time they got the correct answer to a question the person who answered got to pick a Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean from the box that Draco had managed to get away with sneaking into the library every single day without Madam Pince noticing it and the person who asked the question had to eat it, no matter how terrible it was. How the librarian hadn’t thrown them out yet when one of them started choking on an awful one, or laughing at the person who had to eat the bean, none of them knew. It certainly got Harry and Ron motivated to know things, just so they could watch Draco and Hermione (who hated the “game”, but participated anyway because she hated them being so incompetent when it came to schoolwork) eat the grossest flavors they could find in the redstriped box that Draco had ordered from the Honeydukes in Hogsmeade via owl because he couldn’t go yet since he was only a first year.

“I can’t remember half of these things! Now I have to… now I have to eat _this_.” Ron said as he wrinkled his nose in disgust, his blue eyes narrowed in suspicion while he held up a peachy orange colored Every Flavor Bean that was specked with darker orange spots, one Saturday. He looked away briefly from the bean and out the window nearest them which revealed the first really nice day of the spring; bright, forget-me-not blue skies stretched for miles, not a cloud in sight, and the trees of the Forbidden Forest swayed ever so slightly in the distance due to the soft breeze blowing outside.

“It’s really not that difficult, Ronald, honestly. You just need to focus a bit more.” Hermione said without looking up from the essay she was writing on Emeric the Evil for History of Magic, her quill scratching against the scroll of parchment she had spread out in front of her as she wrote sentence after sentence at a speed that seemed almost inhuman. 

“But it is! How are we supposed to remember the difference between a hex and a curse?” Ron exclaimed, waving his hands around frantically as if to emphasize his point. He froze however the second Madam Pince looked up from the book she was reading behind her desk, her dark eyes glinting over the top of a pair of glasses that rested on the bridge of the old, stern woman’s nose. Draco had to place his hand over his mouth to stop himself from snickering at the look on his redheaded best friend’s face as he stared back at the librarian, completely frozen with his arms still spread wide. 

It took Ron about fifteen seconds to move again and the only reason he did was because out of what felt like nowhere a tall, hairy man wearing a thick fur coat despite the late spring-time warmth in the air stepped out from one of the sections of bookcases right near where the four first year Gryffindors were sitting. “Hagrid!” Draco called out to the man, ignoring Madam Pince’s angry glare that was sent his way, and the person he was addressing stopped on his way towards the door. He turned around and rather quickly moved his hands behind his back, as if he were hiding something from them.

“What are you doing here, Hagrid?” Ron asked him then and Harry looked up from the Herbology book he was reading, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_. The raven-haired boy instinctively pushed his round glasses, which had slipped down slightly while he had his nose in a book, back up the bridge of his nose.

“Jus’ lookin.” The Hogwarts Gamekeeper responded vaguely, his tone sounding unsure. This immediately caught all four young Gryffindors attention and Ron dropped the Every Flavor Bean he still had in his hand onto the table they were sitting at, Harry placing his book next to it. “An’ what’re you lot up ter? Not still after Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?” Hagrid suddenly went from looking nervous to suspicious, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked down at them.

“Oh, we figured that out ages ago,” Ron said, almost off-handedly, though Draco could still hear the smugness in his voice that the redhead was trying to hide. “ _And_ we know what the dog’s guarding, it’s the Philosopher’s St-” Hagrid interrupted him before he could finish speaking however, an alarmed expression on his face as he frantically looked around as if to make sure nobody had heard a word of what Ron had just said.

“Shhh!” The Gamekeeper hissed and glared down at them, though the look was more panicked than angry. “Don’ go shoutin’ about it, what’s the matter with yeh?”

“As a matter of fact, there’s a few things we wanted to ask you, Hagrid,” Harry started and Draco turned to stare at the raven-haired boy in shock, really, he thought it was a good idea to talk about this with Hagrid in the school _library_? “about what other than Fluffy is guarding the stone-” 

Hagrid seemed to have the same idea as Draco on the matter of discussing things like this so out in the open, where everyone could hear them, and he once again hissed at them: “SHHH! Listen - Come an’ see me later, I’m not promisin’ I’ll tell yeh anythin’, mind yeh, but don’ go rabbitin’ about it in here, students aren’ s’pposed ter know. They’ll think I told yeh -”

Harry interrupted Hagrid before he could say anything else and, with a somewhat forced seeming smile on his face, said: “See you later, then.” The gamekeeper nodded ever so slightly and then quickly left the library, once again hiding whatever he had in his hands.

“What do you think he was hiding behind his back?” Hermione asked them the second Hagrid was gone, her brown eyes alight with curiosity and a strange amount of excitement.

“You think it has something to do with the Stone?” Harry asked as a response, though his eyes, unlike the brunette's, were glinting with concern, as well as a very small amount of curiosity that was just barely there.

“Either that or something equally as mysterious.” Draco muttered and frowned in the direction Hagrid had walked off in. 

“I’ll go see which section he was in.” Ron said, drawing the blond’s attention back to his friends, and stood up. The redhead paused for a second in front of the line of bookshelves and then disappeared around the same corner Hagrid had emerged from just a few moments prior. Harry frowned after him and Hermione, who probably knew her way around the library better than anyone in the school besides Madam Pince, looked as if she wanted to stand up and follow him. In fact, she almost did, only to stop in the middle of standing up when Ron came back, a stack of books piled in his arms.

“ _Dragons_ !” He whispered, sounding equal parts excited and nervous as he did so. With a loud bang that caused the librarian to look up again with a death glare aimed in their direction the youngest Weasley son dropped the books he had grabbed from the shelves, most likely at random, unceremoniously onto the table. “Hagrid was looking for books about dragons! Look: _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland_ ; _From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon Keeper’s Guide_.” Ron slumped back into his chair and looked over the different books that had different amounts of dust gathered on them. Obviously, no matter how surprising, dragons were not a very common interest in students.

“Hagrid does kind of have a thing for dragons…” Draco muttered under his breath as he reached across the circular table and picked up the book lying on top of the small pile that was laying on the parchment Hermione had been writing her essay on. The look on her face suggested that she was not happy about that fact, but she didn’t say anything, likely waiting until she knew if the books damaged her writing in any way before she did.

“Yeah, on the day I first met him he told me he’s always wanted to have one.” Harry agreed and leaned over so that he could look at the thick, slightly dusty leather-bound book Draco had begun flipping through over the blond’s shoulder.

“He said that when he met me too. A bit mental, if you ask me. My name got him started on it, and if I’m remembering correctly it took us a while to get him back to talking about something else again.” Draco shook his head slightly and frowned down at the book opened in front of him. How could someone actually want to own a creature like this?

“But owning a dragon is illegal.” Ron had a shocked look on his face as he said this and he stared down at the cover of the book in front of him, which had a dragon with huge wings and _a lot_ of spikes breathing fire on it. “The Warlock's Convention of 1709 banned dragon-breeding, everybody knows that. It’s to stop the Muggles from noticing us if we have a dragon in our back garden - besides, you can’t tame dragons, it’s too dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie’s gotten from the wild dragons in Romania.” A grimace tugged at the redhead’s lips, his blue eyes momentarily becoming a bit unfocused, as if he was remembering something not exactly pleasant.

“But there aren’t wild dragons in Great Britain?” Harry demanded, his voice sounding awed and fascinated, yet also a bit fearful. His emerald green eyes were a bit wide behind his round glasses, and he was staring at Ron, obviously nervous about the answer he would receive to his question.

“Of course there are.” Ron said and there was a hint of excitement in his eyes as he did so, a grin tugging at his lips. _Maybe Charlie isn’t the only Weasley who has a bit of a thing for dragons…_ Draco thought with a mix of confusion and a tiny bit of fear for his redheaded best friend. “The Common Welsh Green and the Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has their hands full trying to keep them hidden, that I can tell you. Our kind constantly have to put a bunch of spells on the Muggles that spotted some, to make them forget.” Draco grimaced himself at the last sentence, knowing full-well how often Muggles needed to be obliviated. He had been seen once, when he was about nine years old, flying his broom around in an empty field near the Malfoy Manor with Blaise and Theo and his father had gone up to the Muggle and had muttered a quiet spell and then another that made the man turn and stumble off, as if he wasn’t fully in control of himself.

“Then what on earth’s Hagrid doing?” Hermione looked equal parts confused and concerned, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion and her dark eyes slightly distant, like they always were when she was trying to figure something out that didn’t exactly make sense.

“Maybe he’s just interested in knowing more about them?” Draco suggested, though even he could hear the doubt in his voice. A small frown tugged the corners of his lips downwards and he turned a page in the book lying open in front of them, a picture of a scarlet red dragon curled around a couple eggs, smoke curling up from its nostrils greeting him on the next one. It seemed highly unlikely that the reason he was there was simply interest, especially considering one of the things Hagrid wanted more than anything was an actual dragon, meaning he likely already knew pretty much everything about them.

“Let’s just hope that’s all it is…” Ron muttered, grimacing down at the book about “raising” dragons, his previous interest and excitement on the subject of dragons gone. 

* * *

About an hour later, when Madam Pince had seemingly had enough of them disrupting her precious silence in the library and had thrown them out, the four first year Gryffindors made their way down to the wooden hut that the Gamekeeper lived in. “I doubt he’ll give us any actual answers, he’s too loyal to Dumbledore.” Draco said as they walked down the path leading from the castle down to the border of the Forbidden Forest, which even in the mid-afternoon in late spring looked dark, eerie, and dangerous.

“Yeah, but if we get him to slip up like last time we’ll find things out that we can at least look into so we have some idea what’s protecting the stone in case Snape somehow manages to get past the dog and someone needs to stop him. We'll need to know what to expect.” Harry said and Draco stopped mid-stride to turn and stare at the boy in shock, his grey eyes wide. 

“Know what to expect? Are we going to go after him if he manages to get in? Harry, that’s… that’s dangerous. Really dangerous.” The blond said, his voice sounding a bit higher than usual and the boy he was addressing looked down for a second before redirecting his gaze to meet Draco’s. His green eyes had a determined glint in them that hid the shimmer of fear and understanding that also shone in their depths.

“I know, but if it comes to it, I’m going after him. If I do nothing, then more people might get hurt. If Snape manages to get in, I’m going to go after him, and you can’t stop me, Draco.” For a few seconds Draco held his raven-haired best friend’s stare, wanting to try to convince him to not even think about doing that, but knowing it wouldn’t help. Harry had too much Gryffindor bravery in him, and had much too big of a hero complex, something the blond had managed to figure out on his second day of school when he had defended Draco, even though he hadn’t liked him at all back then. He looked down with a sigh, breaking his eye contact with Harry and turned away to continue on his way toward Hagrid’s hut. 

“C’mon, Hagrid will be expecting us…” The blond said quietly and once again began walking down the path as if they hadn’t stopped in the first place. He didn’t see Harry’s frown, or hear his equally as defeated sigh before following him, Ron and Hermione making sure to stay with the other two.

Nobody said anything after that until they reached the hut at the border of the forest, where they all hesitated for a brief moment. All of the curtains were pulled shut, blocking any light from coming in through the windows, and smoke was billowing out of the chimney like a dark stormcloud, despite the warmth of the day. What was Hagrid doing in there? The four of them all shook themselves out of their momentary daze rather quickly and made their way towards the front door, Harry rapping three times against the wood.

“Who’s there?” A deep, heavily accented voice asked from behind the door, which remained firmly shut until Harry yelled that it was them. It was then yanked open rather quickly and all four of them were pulled inside by Hagrid’s huge hands, the door slamming shut behind them.

The first thing Draco noticed inside was the heat. It hit him like a brick wall and he grimaced, finding it somewhat difficult to breathe almost immediately. The air was thick and incredibly humid, the stone floor seeming to shimmer as if it had multiple spells placed on it that were meant to create shields. A huge fire, even larger than the blond had seen in the Gamekeeper’s fireplace during the middle of the winter, blazed in the grate, casting strange shadows and flickering orange light on the walls of the hut.

“Here.” Hagrid said a few seconds later as he led them over to the table that Draco, Harry, and Ron had sat at with him the very first time they came to visit him and poured tea into four cups, which he then handed out to them. “Stoat sandwiches?” He offered then and all four first years shook their heads, sipping their tea so that he didn’t question their decline for the food. Not only did Draco not particularly want to eat stoat, he was also pretty sure the bread would crack his teeth, or at least leave them aching for days as his biscuits had. “Alrigh’, wha’ did yeh wan’ ter ask me?” The Gamekeeper finally asked with a sigh, sitting down across from them. 

All of them opened their mouths to begin talking at once, but each of them froze before a single word was spoken. After a second Harry interrupted the silence, his green eyes holding the same determined glint they had on the way to the hut as he looked at Hagrid. “We were wondering if you could tell us, what’s guarding the Philosopher’s Stone besides Fluffy.” He said rather bluntly, not even attempting to stall the question.

Hagrid hesitated for a long moment, his eyes narrowed with a suspicious glint in them that proved he knew they were up to something. “Can’ tell yeh tha’ o’ course.” He said finally, his voice uncertain. “Number one, I don’ know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn’ tell yeh if I could. That Stone’s here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts - I s’ppose yeh’ve worked that out? Beats me how yeh even know abou’ Fluffy.”

Hermione sighed slightly, as if she were disappointed and also a bit exasperated. “Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you _know_ it, you know everything that’s going on round here.” She said softly, her tone of voice obviously intended to to flatter the Gamekeeper. Hagrid’s beard around his mouth twitched slightly, showing that he was attempting not to smile, the brunette’s compliment working surprisingly well. “We only really want to know _who_ does the guarding. We were wondering who Dumbledore trusts enough to ask for help, besides you, of course.” Hermione continued and Hagrid’s smile grew as he puffed out his chest proudly. All three boys beamed at their best friend, knowing that she had just succeeded in getting them answers.

“Well, I don’ s’ppose it could hurt yer tell yeh that…” He said, still looking a bit uncertain, but otherwise willing. “Let’s see… he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o’ the teachers did enchantments… Professor Sprout — Professor Flitwick — Professor McGonagall — “ he ticked the names off on his large, calloused and slightly scarred hands, 1 - 2 - 3 - . “Professor Quirrell — an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, and Professor Snape.” Hagrid continued to count off on his fingers, not noticing the quartet’s shocked looks until they exclaimed in unison.

“ _Snape?_ ”

Hagrid nodded, hesitating then when he saw how wide all of their eyes were, even Draco’s, despite how strongly he had refused to think his godfather guilty before. “Yeah - yeh aren’ still on abou’ that, are yeh? Listen, Snape is helping _protect_ the Stone, he’s not abou’ ter go an’ steal it.” The gryffindors all looked at each other, and Draco knew exactly what they were thinking, even if he himself didn’t fully think it could be the full story. If Severus was there when they put the protections around the stone, then it wouldn’t have been very difficult for him to discover what the others’ spells were, meaning he likely knew everything besides how to get past Fluffy, and Quirrell’s wards, it seemed.

“You’re the only person who knows how to get past Fluffy, right, Hagrid?” Harry asked, his tone anxious, but also excited, and his green eyes glinting. “And you wouldn’t tell anybody, even one of the teachers?” 

Hagrid puffed out his chest again, a proud grin on his face. “Nobody besides Dumbledore an’ meself know.” He said and all four of them let out a relieved sigh, which the gamekeeper somehow missed.

“Well, that’s something…” Harry muttered to the other three, and they nodded. Hermione then tucked a strand of dark, bushy brown hair behind her ear and let out a small sigh as she briefly wiped her forehead, which was beaded with sweat, with the back of her hand. In that moment Draco realized once again how scorching hot it was in the hut, and absentmindedly ran his hand through his platinum blond hair to get the slightly sweat-soaked strands out of his face. “Hagrid, could we open a window, or something? I’m burning up here.” Harry asked, his eyes on both Draco and Hermione, obviously having noticed their discomfort and likely having his own.

“Can’t, Harry, sorry.” Hagrid said, his tone rather apologetic, though he, instead of meeting any of their eyes as he answered, directed his gaze onto the fire still blazing in the fireplace. 

“Hagrid, what is _that_?” Harry demanded suddenly and Draco turned to look at the flames as well, his eyes growing about twice their size when he saw the ink blank ovoid lying below the kettle that was constantly hanging above the fire.

“Why do you have a _dragon egg_?!” Draco demanded before he could stop himself, his jaw dropping in shock as he stared at the egg that sat in the heart of the flickering orange flames, his face growing even paler than usual. “Hagrid, you know how dangerous those are, right?” The blond received no answer, though he likely would have if Ron hadn’t spoken as well.

“Where did you get it, Hagrid?” The redhead’s voice was awed, and he stood up to get closer to the fire, leaning forward to get a better look as his blue eyes glimmered with fascination. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” 

Hagrid looked down slightly, as if embarrassed before he too moved closer to the fire, a grin on his heavily bearded face. “Won it.” He said, sounded a bit dazed, though whether it was because he was happy, or because the heat in the place must’ve been affecting him at least to some degree, Draco wasn’t sure. “Las’ night. Was down in the village, ordered meself a drink or two an’ got inter a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was pretty happy ter get rid o’ it, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Draco and Hermione both stared at the Hogwarts Gamekeeper in shock, neither of them fully sure what to say for at least 30 seconds straight. “But what are you going to do when it’s hatched?” Hermione finally found her voice and Hagrid hesitated for a moment before answering her question. 

“Well, I read a bit.” He said and went over to his large bed that filled about a third of the hut, pulling a thick book out from under his rather flat looking pillow. “From the library - _Dragon Breeding For Pleasure and Profit_ \- ’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but everythin’s in it. The egg needs ter stay in the fire, ‘cause the mother’s breathe on ‘em, yeh see, an’ when it hatches, feed it a bucket o’ brandy an’ chicken-blood every half hour. An’ there, look, how yeh identify the dragons from the eggs - what I’ve got here, is a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, the Ridgebacks.” Hagrid had a grin on his face and stared at the egg resting in the flames with an almost loving expression.

“Hagrid, you live in a _wooden hut_.” Hermione said, looking very much equally terrified, dismayed and shocked. The Gamekeeper didn’t seem to hear her however, just continued to stare at the egg in fascination as he poked at the fire.

* * *

About a week later, at breakfast, they got their first news on the dragon egg since the day they found out. It came in the form of a very brief letter brought to Harry by Hedwig, that had only two words written on it in Hagrid’s recognizable scraggly hand-writing: ‘ _He’s hatching’_

The moment Ron read the note he jumped up from his seat at Gryffindor table, an excited look on his face as he leaned forward towards them with his school bag already slung over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go! We could skip Herbology, I doubt anyone would notice we’re gone.” The redhead said and nodded his head in the direction of the tall, golden double doors that led out of the Great Hall, his blue eyes glinting in the morning sunlight streaming in through the windows and a wide grin on his face.

“No! Ron, we can’t. For one, we have exams coming up and if we miss even one class we could fail them because we didn’t learn something we need, and for two, it would be too suspicious to go! We could risk getting Hagrid caught!” Hermione snapped and stood up as well, grabbing her bag and the book she had had propped open on the table in front of her. Ron hesitated for a moment, the grin on his face flickering as he thought about whether maybe the brunette was correct. “Anyways, _I_ am going to Herbology, and I hope you three do as well.” 

With that said Hermione stormed off towards the doors, her curls bouncing against her back as she walked. All three of her best friends stared after her for a moment before Ron took off, following the brunette and leaving Harry and Draco still sitting at the table. “We should probably go with them before they murder each other, or someone else.” Draco said and his raven-haired best friend nodded before jumping to his feet, almost forgetting his bag in his haste to leave the hall. “Hey! Wait a second, Harry!” The blond yelped and pushed himself up from the long bench, jogging to catch up with the other boy, who had a small, amused smirk on his face.

It didn’t take them long to catch up to Ron and Hermione, despite their head start, and by the time they did the two were arguing once again, the redhead obviously having gotten over his momentary hesitation on going to Hagrid’s. “C’mon, Hermione, people skip class all the time. Nobody will question it, the worst that could happen is we lose a few points for ditching.” He said and Hermione sighed, trying rather unsuccessfully to hide her exasperation as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, _lose points_ , Ron. You already lost 25 points by deciding you were going to get yourself into a fight with Zabini. Gryffindor isn’t exactly happy with you for almost putting us behind Ravenclaw in the House Cup. If you lose us any more points, everyone’s going to hate you.” She stopped in the middle of the courtyard they were walking though and turned to face Ron, her brown eyes glinting in annoyance as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“So what? Hermione, how many times in your life do you get the chance to see a dra-” Draco’s hand cut the redhead’s words off as he, rather abruptly, clamped his hand over his mouth when he spotted a flash of dark green robes out of the corners of his eyes. Pansy and most of the other first year Slytherins were coming up from the lake, where they had likely been instead of going to breakfast doing who knows what, and were all very much so capable of over-hearing anything Harry, Ron, Hermione, or Draco said when speaking at normal volume. 

“ _Shh_!” The blond hissed, glaring at the redhead in an attempt to get him to not protest against him stopping him from speaking instead of just telling him to stop. “Not here. They could hear, and then we’d all be in trouble, Ron.” Draco subtly tilted his head in the direction of the slytherins and Ron’s eyes followed his movement. He felt his best friend close his mouth, obviously getting the message to not try and say anything. The redhead then raised his eyebrows when the blond made no signs of moving his hand. Quickly he pulled his hand back and grimaced down at it, wiping his palm off on his robes.

“Fine, we’ll go to class, but just to make sure those snakes stay off our back and don’t get too suspicious. We’re going during break later though. I _need_ to see that, Charlie will be _so_ jealous, he’s never seen one hatch before!” Ron said, lowering his voice so the Slytherins that had just passed by them wouldn’t hear and Harry and Draco both nodded in agreeance. Hermione however still seemed hesitant as she slowly nodded, reluctance shimmering in her eyes before she turned away and continued on her way to the greenhouses, the other three slowly following.

* * *

“It’s nearly out.” Hagrid told them the moment he opened the door for them later that morning, his face bright red with excitement. The four first years had immediately thrown down their quills, grabbed their bookbags and bolted towards Hagrid’s hut when the bell signalling the end of class rang. All of them were excited to see the baby dragon, even Hermione, who had previously thought it would be too dangerous to go anywhere near one. The Hogwarts Gamekeeper pulled them inside the small wooden cabin that stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and, as he had done the last time they had come over, he quickly slammed the door shut behind them.

Draco looked around the one room of the hut, which was somehow even warmer than it had been the last time they were there, subconsciously fiddling with the sleeves of his robes, wishing he didn’t have to wear that part of his uniform when it was so boiling hot outside. Out in the sun was bad enough most of the time, the greenhouses and Hagrid’s hut were whole new levels of nightmarish heats that made Draco regret not having found some way to learn a cooling charm so that everything at least wouldn’t feel as dreadfully warm.

The ink black dragon egg, which had previously been sitting in the center of the fire that still for whatever reason blazed in Hagrid’s fireplace, was lying on the table. Huge, spider-web like cracks covered most of its surface and every few seconds it trembled, as if something was moving inside of it while small clicking noises could be heard. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all immediately rushed towards it, pulling their chairs closer to the table so they could get closer looks at the egg as the cracks steadily grew bigger. Draco, on the other-hand, stood back for about thirty seconds, suddenly rather hesitant to get near the egg. What if the second it escaped the egg it jumped out at one of them and attacked? What if it set fire to their robes, or the curtains that hung from the window right behind the table?

Still, if either of those things, or something else bad, did happen, it would be better to at least be closer to help. With a small sigh that Draco wasn’t sure of the emotion behind, he pulled his own chair closer to the table, leaning forward slightly to see the egg, which seemed to be slowly turning and very strongly trembling as the dragon inside attempted to break free, better. Suddenly, not even a minute after the blond had sat down with the other three gryffindor students, a piece of the shell came flying off. With a yelp Draco lept back out of his chair to avoid being hit by the sharp shard of black dragon egg, and the other three followed suit, jumping back as more pieces began to fly in all directions as if they were bursting from cannons.

A small, inkblack dragon with bony wings that were larger than the rest of it sat in the middle of where the egg had just been laying, its nostrils flared dangerously. Bright, orange-red eyes that glowed like dying embers stared up at them and, despite how dangerous it was and how much Draco didn’t want to get any closer to the creature than he already was, the blond found himself taking a step forward. The baby Norwegian Ridgeback sneezed then, sending sparks sparks flying. A few of the small little orange specks just barely missed landing on his robes and instead flickered and died out as they drifted towards the floor.

Hagrid, who seemed completely unaffected by the danger the dragon was posing to him, stretched his hand out towards it, seemingly intending to cradle the creature’s head. “Isn’t he beautiful?” He murmured, his fingers almost grazing the dragon's black scales, only to be stopped by the Ridgeback snapping at him, almost taking the tips of Hagrid’s fingers off with its razor-sharp teeth. “Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!” The gamekeeper’s voice was soft and awed, once again sounding loving as it had last time. How could someone sound loving when speaking to a _dragon_?

“Hagrid…” Said Hermione, who seemed to have somewhat similar thoughts to Draco, her brown eyes glimmering with slight concern and fear. “How quick do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?” She looked nervously down at the not exactly small baby dragon that had tiny wisps of smoke curling out of its nostrils and then back up at Hagrid.

“Well, the females tend ter grow faster 'n the males, but really it depends on how much an' how well yeh feed 'em. Some jus grow quicker 'n others. Some start breathing fire around a month or so after they hatch.” Hagrid shrugged a bit, as if none of those facts were concerning in the slightest, and Draco found himself staring with wide, grey eyes at the reptile sitting on the table before once again scrambling backwards, away from it.

“Hagrid! You’ll set the whole grounds on fire if you keep a dragon like that here! You’re going to get caught!” Hagrid seemed to pale ever so slightly at Draco’s words, his excitement deflating somewhat, but he said nothing in response, simply stared out through a tiny gap in the curtains at Hogwarts.

* * *

For the next week Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco spent almost all of their free-time in Hagrid’s hut instead of the library, all thoughts of final exams having practically disappeared from their minds for the time being. They were all too preoccupied with trying to convince Hagrid to find some way to get rid of the dragon before it started to become too dangerous to even be near, which so far was rather unsuccessful. Hermione had already tried to convince him to talk to the Care of Magical Creatures professor about where he could get the dragon to have a safe life, but he had refused because he didn’t want to get rid of it. Draco had also suggested finding a place in the Forbidden Forest where he could make a sort of habitat or pen for the dragon to live, but Hagrid had said he couldn’t do that either.

“Just let him go.” Harry said eight days after the dragon had hatched. They had just finished Transfiguration class and had run down to Hagrid’s hut so they could visit him for a little while before Harry had Quidditch practice. “Free him.”

Hagrid shook his head quickly, his dark eyes twinkling in a sad way, like letting the dragon he had owned for a week free into the wild was something he just couldn’t imagine doing. “I can’. He’s too small. He’d die.”

_Small?! That thing's not bloody small!_ Draco thought and looked up from the dragon which had grown to at least three times its size over the past week. The sparks it had sneezed out on the first day had morphed into small flames, and smoke was constantly curling up out of its nostrils in small swirls. Hagrid, who claimed that the dragon was easy to take care of, had already started ignoring his jobs as Gamekeeper in order to watch over it so it didn’t burn down his whole hut, which had slowly begun getting messier and messier. Empty whiskey bottles and chicken feathers covered the floor like cherry blossoms under a tree in the middle of spring.

“I wan' ter name 'im Norbert. He knows me pretty well now, look. Norbert! Norbert! Where's mummy?” Hagrid looked down at the dragon which just barely fit on the table, his dark eyes swimming with tears. Draco couldn’t tell if the tears were of joy or sadness, but either way he didn’t get it. The creature he wanted to name had already set fire to his bed at least once, had almost bitten both Fang’s tail and Hagrid’s fingers off and had probably emptied at least half the school’s chickens of their blood, thereby killing them. Even Ron, who at first had found the dragon fascinating and cool wanted nothing more than for Hagrid to get rid of it.

“He’s lost his marbles.” Ron muttered so that only Harry and Draco could hear and the blond snorted with laughter, quickly covering his mouth with his hand to stifle it as he nodded in agreement. That was one way to put it, though Harry didn’t agree, or disagree, with the two other gryffindor boys.

“Hagrid, in two weeks Norbert will be as big as your house, if it isn’t already burned down by that point.” Harry said, quite obviously avoiding eye contact with Ron, as if he could stop himself from making any signs of acknowledging what the redhead had said by doing that.

“Someone’s bound to notice something soon, what with us coming here every day after classes, you not doing your job as much, and the windows always closed and the curtains constantly shut despite it being late spring. Someone’ll notice eventually, and you won’t be able to avoid any blame or trouble if someone tells Dumbledore.” Draco added, his former amusement at Ron’s statement gone as if he had never felt it.

Hagrid looked down slightly, growing dejected suddenly as he bit his lower lip rather nervously. “I... I know I can' keep 'im forever, but I can' jus dump 'im. I can'.” He said, voice cracking slightly with an emotion that could likely only be described as grief and desperation. Harry’s green eyes suddenly lit up, however, and he turned away from the gamekeeper to face Ron with an excited look on his face as if he had just realized something important.

“Charlie.” The raven-haired boy said, looking expectantly at the redhead, who turned to face him with a confused and bewildered expression. Draco on the other hand wasn’t all that confused, he was pretty sure he knew what Harry meant. It was rather obvious really, if you thought about it, but then again Ron was not exactly the quickest to realize something. While he may be pretty smart under his severe lack of motivation to study and do homework, he was thick when it came to the obvious.

“You’ve lost it too.” The redhead muttered and lifted his hands as if he was planning on grabbing Harry’s shoulders and shaking him, only to think twice about it and dropped his hands again. “I’m Ron, remember?” Draco scoffed slightly and opened his mouth to explain what Harry had meant, only to be beat to it by said raven-haired boy. 

“No, Charlie, your brother Charlie.” Harry said, a hint of amusement audible underneath his slight exasperation. “In Romania. The Dragon-tamer. We could send him Norbert. Charlie could take care of him and then let him out into the wild!”

Ron’s blue eyes lit up in a similar fashion to Harry’s and a grin split across his face, all of the confusion wiped clean away. “That’s genius! How about that, Hagrid?” The redhead looked over at the gamekeeper expectantly, his eyes seeming to twinkle in a weirdly excited way.

“I… Alright.” Hagrid said after a moment and looked down at Norbert, tears shimmering in his eyes once again, though this time Draco was sure they were of sadness.

* * *

Over the next couple days things just seemed to get worse with the dragon. It had continued to grow at the same rapid pace and needed much more than just buckets of chicken blood and whiskey to eat. About midway through the week Norbert started eating crates full of dead rats, which Hogwarts had surprisingly a lot of, and the four of them had decided they would take turns helping Hagrid feed the dragon.

“He bit me!” Ron said the moment he came into the Gryffindor Common Room, letting Harry’s invisibility cloak that he had borrowed fall to the floor. It was late Wednesday night and all of the other gryffindors, even the fifth and seventh years that had begun staying up till the early hours of the morning studying for their OWLs and NEWTs, had gone to bed, leaving Harry, Hermione, and Draco alone while Ron was down at Hagrid’s Hut.

“I won’t be able to hold a quill for at least a whole week. I’m telling you, this dragon is the worst animal I’ve ever laid eyes on, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you’d think it’s a sweet, cuddly little bunny rabbit. After he bit me, Hagrid told me off for frightening it. And while I was leaving he started singing him a lullaby!” The redhead collapsed into his usual chair, placing his right hand, which was wrapped in a rather bloody handkerchief, onto the table in front of him.

Just as Draco moved his chair a bit closer to Ron’s and reached towards his hurt hand to see if it was as bad as the amount of blood suggested something scratched at the window their table was in front of. The blond looked up in surprise, trying not to show his flinch, and saw a familiar snowy owl fluttering outside the window, a letter tied to her leg. 

“It’s Hedwig!” Harry stood up quickly and let his owl inside. She immediately perched on the raven-haired boy’s shoulder, extending her leg with the letter towards him. “Charlie responded!” He sat back down in his chair, opening the envelope and unfolding the letter as he did so. Draco and Hermione both got to their feet, while Ron simply moved his chair closer to Harry’s, and they crowded around the raven-haired boy to read the letter with him. 

_Dear Ron,_

_How are you? Thanks for the letter -- I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon._

_Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark._

_Send me an answer as soon as possible._

_Love,_

_Charlie_

Draco and Hermione, having finished reading just a second or two before the other two, glanced at each for a moment, then looked at Harry and Ron. “We have the invisibility cloak. That shouldn’t be too difficult - I think it's big enough to hide three of us and Norbert under it.” Harry said and looked at his best friends, glancing worriedly down at Ron’s injured hand.

“It’s the best chance we’ve got.” Draco agreed and glanced at Ron too, wanting to drag the redhead off to the Hospital Wing to get his hand fixed, but knowing he couldn’t for a few different reasons. A concerned frown tugged at the blond’s lips and he sighed as he sat back down in his own chair. “Who’s going? Because… Ron, if that gets infected or is really bad already, I don’t think you should go. You could make it worse, or -” Ron interrupted Draco with a laugh, his blue eyes glinting in amusement.

“You’re almost worse than mum.” The redhead said and Draco blinked at him in bewilderment.

“What?” His voice sounded sort of high and confused even to him and he stared at his redheaded best friend and then the other two as well, both of which were attempting to stifle their laughter with their hands.

“Nevermind, mate.” Ron said, still grinning at the blond.

* * *

The next morning Draco’s concerns turned out to not be for nothing, overnight Ron’s hand had swollen to twice its size and throughout all of breakfast he complained quietly that it felt like it was pulsing with fire. Draco wanted him to go to the Hospital Wing, no matter the risks, but both Harry and Hermione disagreed and said that there was a chance Madam Pomfrey would recognize the bite as a dragonbite and that it wouldn’t be a good idea. This was proven wrong later, however, when by lunchtime Ron’s hand was no longer just swollen and hurting, it had also started to turn slightly green, as if the dragon’s teeth had been venomous or something, though Draco couldn’t remember ever having heard of that before.

After dinner Harry, Hermione, and Draco all ran to the Hospital Wing to check on Ron, finding him sitting up in bed with an empty plate lying next to him. His injured hand had proper bandages on it and seemed significantly less swollen, though the fact that the redhead was still in the hospital and that his hand still had bandages proved that he likely wasn’t all better.

“How are you?” Draco asked and Ron shrugged slightly, a small frown on his face. He bit his lip nervously and scrunched his eyebrows together in a somewhat concerned look, blue eyes a bit distant.

“Fine. I told Madam Pomfrey it was a dog that bit me. Not really sure she believes me, but she didn’t question it, so… I suppose it doesn’t really matter.” Ron paused for a moment then, and a few seconds later, a bit hesitantly, glancing in the direction of Pomfrey’s office, continued. “Parkinson showed up here a little bit ago, hurt herself in Transfiguration or something, I think. She saw my hand while Pomfrey was wrapping it. I don’t think she knows anything, but she certainly suspects us now. We should try to be more careful around her and the other Slytherins when we talk about this. At least until Saturday. Well, Sunday, technically.” Draco frowned at his best friend’s words, knowing he was right. Pansy and Blaise had already shown that if they found out anything that could get them in trouble, they used it against them. If they found out about Norbert Hagrid could get thrown in Azkaban and they could be expelled.

“It’ll all be over on Saturday. Well, the Norbert thing at least. We still have the st-” Before Harry could finish speaking, the door to Madam Pomfrey’s office burst open and she came strolling out. Immediately she shooed the three that weren’t her patient away, and told them they could come back the next day, but that it was almost curfew and that Ron needed rest.

“Goodnight.” The three gryffindors all said at practically the same time to Ron and then all fled the Hospital Wing, heading back to the Common Room where they didn’t have to worry about Pomfrey finding anything out.

* * *

Saturday morning Ron was released from the Hospital Wing, though Madam Pomfrey told him he wasn’t allowed to leave Gryffindor tower to do anything besides go to meals and the library. He had wanted to come with them as well to help with Norbert, but even Hagrid seemed to find this a bad idea, so he reluctantly stayed back in the Common Room, catching up on the homework he had missed over the last two days while he waited for Harry, Hermione, and Draco to return.

“C’mon, it’s almost eleven, we should get going, There’s no telling how hard it might be to get Norbert up to the Tower…” Draco said, glancing up at the clock standing against the wall in the common room after they had been working on all the essays their teachers had assigned for them to write over the weekend for hours on end. He stood up, and Harry and Hermione both did the same, while Ron stayed put, a small, nervous smile on his face.

“Good luck.” The redhead said and they nodded, Harry reaching towards the cloak which he had laid over the back of his chair before they started working so that they wouldn’t have to go up and come back down from the dorms in the middle of the night. They threw it over themselves and then quickly, all huddled rather closely together under the cloak, left the tower and headed down towards Hagrid’s Hut.

The sky was dark and cloudy above them as they snuck through the school grounds, not a star or the moon in sight. Their footsteps were muffled by the soft end of spring grass and they somehow managed to keep themselves hidden from Peeves, Mrs. Norris, and Filch the entire way down towards the edge of the forest.

“He has loads o' rats an' a bit o' whiskey fer the trip.” Hagrid told them when they finally, at about twenty after eleven, made it to his house. He was standing outside with a huge crate that had a tiny bit of smoke curling out of it on one side, meaning it likely had Norbert inside of it. “An' I packed his teddy bear, in case he gets lonely.” As the gamekeeper said this a loud ripping noise came from inside the crate, as if some sort of clothing item or… stuffed animal had just been torn in half.

“Bye-Bye, Norbert.” Hagrid sobbed as Draco, Harry and Hermione threw the cloak over the crate and then once again all got under it themselves. Despite the fact of how strange it seemed to the blond that the gamekeeper cared so much about the animal that had almost killed him, hurt Ron, and almost burnt down his hut, he couldn’t help but hate that this was hurting Hagrid so much. It almost made it not feel right taking Norbert away, but he knew they needed to, otherwise the school would just have even more problems. “Mummy will never forget you!”

With that said, the three first year gryffindors all grabbed the crate and started the painful task of carrying the crate to the castle and up several flights of moving stairs. “Really wish I already knew how to cast a Feather-Light Charm…” Draco muttered under his breath as they dragged the crate up the staircase leading to the second floor. His arms and legs already felt exhausted and like he was about to collapse. Hermione snickered slightly at his words, though it was obviously a bit strained.

“That’s a year three level charm, Draco.” She said and the blond looked up at her in surprise, his eyebrows raising slightly.

“How do you even know that?” He demanded, but got no response from the brunette besides a small smirk that said she wouldn’t be telling him anytime soon. The rest of the way up to the Astronomy Tower was quiet, though they did almost run into Mrs. Norris on the seventh floor, only just managing to slip past her by sneaking into an unlocked abandoned classroom. By the time they finally reached the tower it was already five minutes past midnight, and just a few minutes later four brooms came into view, heading towards them.

Handing Norbert over to Charlie’s friends sort of blurred by in Draco’s mind, nothing really sticking out to him beside the fact that they were planning on flying all the way back to Romania with the crate attached to their brooms. Just as they took off, the dragon-crate somehow suspended in between them, the school’s clock tower struck half past midnight and as they disappeared into the darkness of the night the bell sounded two times, echoes of it bouncing off the many towers and walls of the castle.

The three waited a few minutes, staring off after the four brooms and one dragon as they vanished from view, before quickly going down the stairs of the tower so they could get back to the common room and tell Ron they’d finally gotten Norbert off their backs. Only too late did they realize they had forgotten the invisibility cloak up at the top of the tower, where it would likely stay until they managed to sneak back out to get it, if they did somehow get the chance.

“Well, well, well.” The voice of Filch cut through the silence of the corridor at the foot of the spiral staircase leading down from the Astronomy Tower and all three of them flinched back when the caretaker of Hogwarts’s face appeared out of the darkness, illuminated only by a lantern he held in his hand. “We are in trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do y'all think of Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Crabbe, and Goyle being called the "Snake Squad"? Just curious, because my brother finds it really funny for whatever reason. That's one of the reasons I'm hesitant to have him be reading this... 
> 
> Also, I really want to get to the later books, mainly the sixth one because I won't have to stick as close to canon in that one because so much of the plot revolves around Harry basically stalking Draco while he (unsuccessfully and mostly unwillingly, I believe) attempts to kill Dumbledore, and that's... not really something that can, or will, happen in this. I have a bunch of ideas for that year already, so... I want to get there. But, I'm not going to write these out of order, so I guess I'll have to wait. 
> 
> Anyways, enough of me rambling about things, bye!


	15. Detention In The Dark Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have 50 pages of the original book to rewrite! I know that may seem like a lot, but in all honesty, that's probably worth about... 2-3 of my rewritten chapters. Well, I guess that's how many chapters there are left after this in the book, so that makes sense, but this still has 7 more chapters because I add extra things and occasionally split an actual chapter from the book in two. Also, this fic is now officially my most popular one on here! Thank you guys so much!
> 
> Okay, so no art this chapter, but maybe next chapter? Honestly, we're gonna see... Also, I mean for this to be out two days ago, but I had to go to my grandparent's house for most of the day before yesterday, and couldn't bring my computer, so I couldn't type what I'd written on paper the day before and I was a bit busy yesterday, so therefore this took longer to be able to finish than I intended.

Over the next week, Harry's popularity as being the youngest Seeker in a century, and having brought Gryffindor to victory against both Slytherin and Hufflepuff, quickly dissipated, along with Draco's welcomeness among the Gryffindors. Most had gone back to being suspicious of him, and practically everyone was angry at Harry for putting them in last place for the House Cup by losing them 150 points and thereby leaving Slytherin in first place. Nobody cared much about Hermione's involvement in everything, despite the fact that she had made them lose just as many points as he and Harry had. Perhaps it was simply because she was good at earning them points back by doing everything perfectly in class and knowing all the answers. Draco, of course, did the same thing and got just as many points, but nobody cared because many thought he was secretly loyal to the Slytherins. If any of them cared to pay attention to the way the Snake Squad, and practically all of the other Slytherins, were making fun of him and laughing at him, they would realize that it was quite the opposite.

The dislike towards them however was pushed to the back of most people's minds three days before Harry, Hermione, and Draco were supposed to have detention when they woke up to find that Slytherin had somehow, by unexplained means, lost 80 points over-night, as if a group of those from the snake house had done something similar to what the three first year Gryffindors had done. This put Ravenclaw in first place, and suddenly most people forgot that they had really done anything in the first place because Slytherin was now in third place, over 15 points behind Hufflepuff.

“What happened?” Draco asked when they walked into the Great Hall that morning to see the hourglass filled with emeralds much emptier than it had been the previous morning. He wasn’t the only one who seemed to be wondering this, judging by the many stares the hourglasses were getting, even from the Slytherins, who all seemed horrified. 

“I don’t know, but I don’t think Slytherin does either.” Ron said, his blue eyes glinting in very obvious amusement as he looked over at the table on the other end of the hall. Draco followed his gaze and saw Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle all glaring at the front of the hall, though Theo seemed to have disappeared. Professor Snape, who was always one of the first teachers to show up for meals simply so he could be finished before most, was also nowhere in sight, which was also something that many began realizing and speculating about.

“Do you think it has something to do with Snape not being here, or…” Hermione trailed off for a second, glancing from the teachers’ table, to the Slytherin one, and then at those sitting around them before continuing. “Or do you think it’s a coincidence and we should be concerned about -“ She broke off abruptly, her widening eyes trained on the doors of the Great Hall, as many eyes in the room suddenly were. A silence fell over the hall and Draco turned to face the direction everyone was staring, his jaw dropping in shock when he saw what everyone was staring at.

Snape, who had obviously just entered the hall, was standing in the doorway, an infuriated look on his face, with bright pink hair and neon orange robes. Draco’s mouth opened and closed multiple times in disbelief and then, at the same time as at least half of the students in the hall, started laughing, not even attempting to stifle it. Whoever had managed to pull that off was a genius.

“Twenty points from everyone who laughs again!” Professor Snape’s voice seemed to echo through the hall, amplified to such a loud volume it was impossible to not hear. Immediately everyone stopped laughing, though many, Draco, Ron, and Harry included, had to cover their mouths with their hands to stop their laughter from escaping. The potions master, his hair and robes creating a sort of pinkish orange glow, like a sunset or something, around him, walked through the Great Hall, sitting down at his spot at the teachers’ table.

After a few minutes people slowly stopped staring at Snape and went back to their breakfast, beginning to chat with one another again. “Who do you think did it?” Ron asked them when the noise in the Hall gradually went back to normal. His blue eyes glinted with excitement and an awful lot of amusement and he had a large grin on his face. 

“Your brothers, maybe?” Harry suggested, his expression rather similar to Ron’s. Before any of the other members of the quartet could say anything in response, two new voices spoke up from beside Draco.

“I wish -” Fred said as he slid into the seat on Draco’s left, a huge grin on his face.

“it was us -” George continued, sitting down on Harry’s right, an identical grin on his face.

“Who is responsible for this masterpiece -” 

“Of a prank -”

“But sadly,”

“we can take no credit.” Draco looked from one twin to the other, torn between laughing and leaning away from them. It was as if they had one stream of consciousness, like their thoughts were connected somehow.

“If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” The blond asked and both Weasley twins shrugged at the same time, the grins on their faces seeming to grow even wider.

“I don’t know, but whoever they are, I would like to congratulate them on pulling off a better prank on Snape than we’ve ever managed. Seriously, they’re a legend, especially if they didn’t get caught.” Fred said and George nodded, looking around at all of the students currently sitting in the Great Hall. He was obviously trying to figure out who might have done it, but judging by the puzzled look that appeared on his face, he didn’t have a clue.

* * *

Snape’s hair and robes did not return to their actual color until the next morning, and by then he seemed even more angry than he had before. Maybe that’s why Draco wasn’t all too surprised when Harry came rushing back into the library after having left about a half an hour earlier to… do something, though the blond wasn’t sure what, and said: “I just heard Quirrell talking to someone in an empty classroom, pleading with someone and then giving up or something. I think Snape finally broke him.”

Ron, Draco, and Hermione all looked up from the notes they had on astronomy, which they had been quizzing each other on, still using the Bertie Botts bean “game” to keep each other motivated. Even Hermione, who at first thought it was rather stupid, now enjoyed it because studying for their final exams had started getting rather boring for her as well.

“If Quirrell told Snape how to get past those wards against dark magic -” Ron started to say, a grimace of concern crossing his features as he did so, only to be interrupted mid-sentence by his brunette best friend.

“At least there’s still Fluffy.” She said and Draco nodded in agreement, even though he was pretty sure if his godfather didn’t already know how to get past the three-headed dog, then he would in the next couple days.

“Maybe Snape found out how to get past him without even asking Hagrid.” Ron said, voicing the blond’s thoughts, as he looked around the library, his eyes lingering on the taller piles of books that were stacked on their table. “I bet, there’s _at least_ one book in here that explains how you get past a giant three-headed dog. So, what do we do, Harry?” The redhead’s eyes suddenly seemed to have an excited glint in them, like he was expecting them to go off together on some sort of adventure.

“We go to Dumbledore.” Hermione and Draco both said at the same time and he glanced over at her for a second before returning his gaze to Harry. “We should have done that ages ago. If we keep doing things ourselves, we’ll be expelled instead of actually helping anyone.” 

The raven-haired boy shook his head, looking exasperated as he ran his left hand anxiously through his hair. “But we don’t have any _proof_! Quirrell’s way too scared to take our side. All Snape would have to do is say he doesn’t know how the troll got in on Halloween, and that he was never on the third floor - who will they believe, us or him? It’s not exactly a secret that we don’t like him, Dumbledore will think we just made the story up to get Snape sacked. Filch won’t help us either, even if his life were to depend on it, he’s too friendly with Snape, and the more students thrown out, the better for him, he’ll think. And don’t forget, we’re not even supposed to know about the stone or Fluffy. We’d have loads to explain.” 

Hermione sighed softly and nodded, agreeing with him, even if she seemed a bit reluctant. Ron on the other hand didn’t seem all that convinced with Harry’s reasoning for not going to the Headmaster. “And if we just poke around a bit -”

Harry cut him off rather abruptly, shaking his head rapidly, his green eyes glinting with determination and slight anger. “No. We’ve poked around enough.” Draco, even though he understood what his best friend meant, couldn’t help but open his mouth to protest. 

“Harry-” The blond started to say, but the boy he was addressing shook his head again.

“This isn’t yo- our fight You were right, Draco, that day when we found out about Norbert. This is too dangerous for us. I can’t let you guys get hurt because I’m getting myself into things like this. It’s not fair for any of you…” Harry said, his gaze locked on Draco for a few seconds before looking first at Ron, and then Hermione, before sitting down and grabbing a map of Jupiter and its moons.

* * *

The morning after, at breakfast, three school owls swooped down from the ceiling and landed on the gryffindor table, right in between Harry, Hermione, and Draco. Each of them had identical envelopes held in their beaks and they dropped them at the same time before flying away, not waiting for treats like Hedwig always did, leaving the three first years to stare at the letters in front of them, each of their names scrawled onto the front in dark green ink. In sync Harry, Hermione, and Draco all reached towards them and picked them up with slightly trembling hands. If his father heard about this… it wouldn’t be good, no matter how little he wanted to do with him.

 _Your detention starts at eleven o’clock tonight._   
_Meet Mr. Filch in the Entrance Hall._ _  
_ Prof. M. McGonagall

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his platinum blond hair, knowing that he deserved to have detention. He’d helped sneak an _illegal dragon_ out of the school in the middle of the night, something he would technically be in a lot more trouble for if anyone knew the first part. “Tonight will be… fun.” He mumbled under his breath and placed the letter and envelope back down on the table.

“It’ll probably just be copying lines or cleaning the cages for Care of Magical Creatures. That’s what Fred and George usually have to do.” Ron said from across the table, his blue eyes glinting with a mix of pity, amusement and something else Draco couldn’t quite place.

“That doesn’t make it any more fun, but I hope that’s all it is we have to do…” Harry muttered and Hermione glanced onced over at him, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“What else would we do?” She asked and for a second Harry looked like he was trying to figure out what to say in response, his green eyes glinting with contemplation. Then he just shrugged, reaching across the table to grab a piece of toast, biting into it to avoid speaking. Draco raised a questioning eyebrow in the raven-haired boy’s direction before shaking his head and going back to his breakfast, his mind trying to figure out what besides copying lines and cleaning cages they might have to do for detention.

* * *

Later that night, at about 10:45, the three gryffindors who had detention all made their way down towards the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. It felt odd walking through the castle at night without the invisibility cloak, even though they had only used it a couple of times. The corridors were dead silent and completely empty besides them as they walked through them, their footsteps echoing slightly off the walls.

When they reached their destination they saw that Filch was already there, Theodore Nott standing next to the caretaker with an annoyed and rather impatient look on his face. _What is he doing here? What did he do to get detention?_ Draco thought in confusion and froze for a second at the foot of the staircase they had been going down to get to the Entrance Hall, suddenly wishing he could simply turn around and walk back up the steps. He really did not want to deal with one of his old friends now, detention would be bad enough without the slytherin making fun of him and the others. The blond didn’t do that though, and instead finished walking towards the caretaker and Theo.

“Follow me.” Filch said and then turned around, lighting a lantern as he did so. “I bet you’ll think twice about breaking school rules next time, won’t you, eh?” As he continued to speak he led them out the front door of the school and down the steps leading up to it, a freaky grin on his face while his eyes seemed to glow like Mrs. Norris’s when he looked at the four students out of the corners of them. “Oh yes… hard work and pain are the best teachers, if you ask me… It’s just a pity they let the old rules die out… Could leave you hanging from the ceiling by your wrists for days, I’ve still got the chains in my office, always keep ‘em oiled in case we need them again… Right, off we go, and don’t even think about running off now, that’ll just make it worse for you.”

The rest of the walk through the dark school grounds was silent, the only sounds in the night being their muffled footsteps and faint, eerie sounds that were coming from Forbidden Forest. The more minutes they walked, the more anxious Draco began to feel, his mind coming up with all sorts of terrible things they might have to do. It seemed rather unlikely that they would be copying lines if they were outside, so perhaps they did have to clean cages and such? Except, that was something they would likely do inside as well with the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Kettleburn. What kind of things could you do for detention outside in the middle of the night? Nothing good was the answer to that, especially considering how pleased Filch seemed.

The night sky was covered in clouds, making the night darker every time one of them slid over the moon, which shone brightly otherwise, and hid the stars from view. It was a warm late-spring night, a soft breeze blowing and making Harry’s hair even messier than it was before, blowing Hermione’s long, bushy hair behind her shoulders, and causing his to grow rather loose, the magical hair-gel he used somehow losing its strength. The dark cloak Theo had fastened around his shoulders billowed out behind him slightly as they walked and his curly chocolate brown hair grew a bit messy, which was a rather unusual sight for him considering he always made sure he looked perfect, even if all they were doing was going to the back garden to play Quidditch.

As they approached the edge of the forest, which looked even creepier at night, Draco noticed that Hagrid’s hut was completely dark, not even a lamp turned on inside. Just as the blond was about to break the silence that had fallen over the group to ask Harry and Hermione if either of them found this strange as well, someone else called out to them from somewhere behind them. “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get goin'.” Relief filled Draco, and a bit of the tension he had been feeling eased away. If they had detention with Hagrid, there was no way they would be doing anything too terrible. Well, actually, that wasn’t exactly true considering they had gotten in trouble in the first place by sneaking a dragon out of the castle for him. 

His relief, though somewhat momentary, must have been shared by Harry, and likely Hermione as well, because the grin on Filch’s face grew when he looked over at the Boy-Who-Lived. “I suppose you think you’re going to be enjoying the night with that oaf? Think again, boy -” Harry flinched ever so slightly at that, though there didn’t seem to be much of a reason behind it that Draco could place. “It’s into the forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you all come back in one piece.”

The blond froze at those words, fear shooting through him like he had been shot in the chest with some sort of spell. His silvery grey eyes widened in terror and he looked between the forest and the caretaker, hoping that what he had just heard was false. “Into the forest?” Draco’s voice shook slightly as those words slipped from his lips and Harry looked over at him, a worried look in his emerald green eyes. “We can’t go in there at night… there’s all sorts of things in there - even werewolves, I heard.” His mother had indeed told him that there were sometimes werewolves in the Forbidden Forest, and that there were always other terrifying things lurking in there.

“That’s your problem, isn’t it?” Filch’s voice was much too happy for this, much too excited. How could someone enjoy torturing people so much? “Should’ve thought of the werewolves before you got yourselves in trouble.”

Draco gulped in fear and looked over at his friends, who both seemed just as scared as him, even if they seemed to be a bit better at hiding it than he was. Just then Hagrid came striding towards them, Fang at his heels. He, as usual, had his thick fur coat on despite the warmth and humidity of the night and he had a quiver full of arrows along with a crossbow slung over his shoulder.

“Abou' time.” The gamekeeper said, giving Filch a somewhat exasperated look. “Bin waiting a half an hour already. Alright there, Harry, Hermione, Draco?”

The caretaker scowled at him, looking as if he were resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I wouldn’t be so friendly to them, Hagrid.” Filch said, his voice cold. “They’re here after all to be punished.”

Hagrid frowned at that, looking even more annoyed than before. “So tha''s why yeh're late. Gave 'em a lecture, did yeh? Not your job, ter do tha'. Yeh did your thing, an' now I'll take over.” Filch looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to grin, smirk, or scowl at him, and just decided to go with a very confusing mix of all three.

“I’ll be back at dawn,” He said, finally deciding on smirking. “To pick up what’s left of ‘em.” After he said that the caretaker turned around and walked off into the darkness, his lantern slowly becoming a smaller and smaller dot of light in the distance as he walked back up to the castle.

“I will not go into that forest.” Theo suddenly said, his voice trembling ever so slightly as he turned to face Hagrid. Draco looked over at him in surprise, in all the years he had known the brunet he had never heard his voice tremble at all. Panic was also shining in his hazel eyes and he was wringing his hands together anxiously. Despite the way Theo had treated him and his best friends since the beginning of school, a small part of Draco fought back against his own fear and wanted to make the other boy not scared either. It was stupid, he knew, Theo wasn’t nice to him anymore, and he most certainly wasn’t his friend anymore.

“Yeh have ter if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts.” The blond quickly shook himself out of his incredibly confusing thoughts when Hagrid spoke and he looked away from the Slytherin who used to be one of his best friends. “Yeh did wrong an' now yeh have ter pay fer it.”

For a few seconds all Theo did was stare into the forest, his eyes a bit distant and still shining with fear. “But it’s dangerous in there. Professor Dumbledore himself told us it was, and that we were never allowed to go into the forest. We’re first years! Even the seventh years aren’t allowed into the forest, so why do we have detention in there?! Isn’t detention usually copying lines, or something? All I did was sneak into the restricted section at night! This seems a bit harsh!” He made a fair point, Draco had to admit, though for whatever reason Hagrid didn’t seem to agree.

“Copyin’ lines! What good’s that do ter anyone? C’mon, we’ve got work ter do.” Theo pursed his lips slightly and looked down for a moment, his hands balling to fists and then slowly letting out a long sigh. His fists unclenched and his shoulders relaxed, the tension seeming to bleed out from him as if from a wound. 

“Okay, listen carefully, 'cause, like Theo said, it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment.” Hagrid said and led the four first years to the very edge of the forest, holding his own lantern up when they reached the tree-line. The dim, yellowy orange light revealed a narrow, winding path lined with dark trees that wound its way into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. The breeze that Draco had felt before seemed to grow a bit stronger as they stood in front of the path and a few strands of his platinum blond hair blew into his face, tickling his forehead slightly.

Just before Hagrid pointed it out something silver and glinting caught the corner of his eye and he looked over at it, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. “Look here,” The gamekeeper said right as Draco opened his mouth to ask about what he was indicating. “See that stuff that’s shinin’ on the ground? Silver stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there somewhere that’s bin hurt pretty badly. This is the second time this week. Las’ Wednesday I found a dead one. We’re goin’ ter try ter find the poor thing. We might have to put it out of its misery.” Draco and the rest of the first years stared at the gamekeeper in shock for a few seconds, none of them sure what to say.

“We’re going to do what?” Theo demanded after the momentary silence, his voice high and even more panicked than before. “Just going in there and getting… fairies or bowtruckles to move somewhere else wouldn’t be… that bad, admittedly, or in-incredibly dangerous, but finding unicorns while they’re being hunted and killed by someone, or something?! This is Auror work! Not detention for first years!” Even though Draco really didn’t like his childhood friend much anymore, the blond couldn’t help but agree with him.

“'s likely jus an animal o' some sort. There's nothin' ter worry abou'.” Hagrid said, but his words didn’t sound very convincing to Draco, or the others judging by the looks on their faces.

“But what if it’s not? What if it is something really bad, and it finds us first? It killed a unicorn! That doesn’t happen!” The blond said, a hint of fear creeping into his voice.

“There’s nothin in the forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with Fang or me.” The Hogwarts gamekeeper said, once again attempting to sound reassuring. “An’ stay on the path. Right then, we’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in diff’rent directions. There’s blood all over the place, it must’ve been staggerin’ around since las’ night. Harry, yeh an’ Draco go with Theo.” Both first year gryffindors Hagrid mentioned glanced over at the only Slytherin in their group, rather apprehensive looks on their faces.

“Do we get Fang then?” Draco asked, a bit of fear still in his voice, though it was much less than before, as he looked apprehensively at the dark trees spread out in front of them for miles. He then glanced over at Harry, and saw him looking back at him with a somewhat exasperated and confused expression on his face.

“You think we wouldn’t be able to protect ourselves against whatever’s out there?” He asked and for a few seconds all the bond did was stare at his best friend in shock, blinking repeatedly as if he would be able to understand what he said if he did that enough. When it finally clicked in his mind what Harry had meant, and that he actually thought what he said, a scoff of disbelief escaped his mouth.

“Did you not hear what Hagrid said? Harry, we’re _first years_! We barely even know how to cast a knockback jinx.” Draco said and the other boy paused, as if realizing that he was right, before nodding slowly, a faint dusting of rosy pink covering his cheeks.

“As I was sayin’, if yeh find the unicorn, send green sparks up into the air, alrigh’? Take out yer wand and try it.” Hagrid continued as if Harry and Draco hadn’t spoken in the first place and all four students pulled out their wands, staring at them rather cluelessly for a few seconds. _How do you even do this? Just think “green sparks”?_ The blond thought and then flicked his wand slightly as he lifted it and, sure enough, bright green sparks shot from the end of it. The other three quickly did the same and Hagrid nodded slightly before continuing. “Very good. If one o’ yeh is in trouble, send out red sparks and we’ll come an’ help. Alrigh’, be careful - let’s go.”

The forest seemed even darker inside, and all of the sounds they had been able to hear outside seemed to die down, leaving them in eerie silence. It didn’t take long for the path they were on to split in two and Hagrid and Hermione went left, while Harry, Theo, Draco, and Fang went right.

They walked in silence for a while, keeping their eyes on the ground so they could spot anything out of the ordinary. Every once in a while a stray beam of moonlight would reveal a bit of silvery blood, though the moonlight made it have a bit of a bluish tint. Dead leaves littered the ground below their feet, crunching softly as they walked and random, big tree roots jutted out of the ground, making it difficult to not trip.

“Are there really werewolves in the forest?” Harry asked after a while, looking over at Draco with slight fear shimmering in his emerald eyes. The blond redirected his gaze up from the forest ground to the raven-haired boy in surprise, not having expected him to ask about that or be scared of it in the first place, but then again, Harry still didn’t know all too much about Hogwarts, or the Wizarding World as a while for that matter.

“There are rumors, but no real proof or anything. A few years ago a girl got attacked, but it just turned out to be another student who got bit as a kid and was usually rather calm, apparently. There really probably aren’t any in the forest at the moment, and besides, they wouldn’t be able to do much anyways, it’s not the full moon.” Draco said, though he himself glanced around at the dark trees that stretched on for who knows how far, hoping that what he said was correct.

“There are still other thi- Did you hear that?” Theo suddenly demanded, spinning around with a panicked look on his face, eyes a bit wide. Neither Harry nor Draco seemed to have heard anything, however, when the blond glanced over to his right he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He quickly spun around to face it, but by the time he did the shadow was gone and the leaves that were scattered on the ground had a few more shimmering silver drops of blood sprayed on them, as if the unicorn had walked by, which was impossible due to how visible it would have been.

“Someone’s here.” Draco said, his voice trembling slightly as he took a hesitant step back. He almost tripped over something and yelped in a bit of fear, spinning around to face what he had run into, only to realize it was just Fang. A bit of the tension that had built up in him dissipated and his shoulders relaxed. “Whoever’s hurting the unicorns is here, I-I think.”

Theo gulped rather audibly, his eyes wide as he looked around them, obviously trying to spot whatever had just passed them. There was another sound then, as if someone were sweeping the leaves covering the forest floor up with a broom, and all three first years looked around themselves frantically, a bit panicked, while Fang whimpered in fear of something they couldn’t really see. “Who’s there?” Harry called suddenly and Draco glanced at him for a brief second, trying to silently ask why the raven-haired boy would purposefully draw attention to himself.

Harry glanced his way for a moment as well, as if knowing the blond had done so, and seemed to understand what Draco was trying to say, though all he did in response was shrug and then pull his wand out of his robe-pocket. Draco quickly did the same, gripping the familiar handle of his 12 ½ inch long hawthorn wand, feeling a comforting, tingling warmth in his fingers as he did so. Suddenly a twig snapped somewhere to their left and all three of them spun towards the sound, weak red sparks already beginning to trail around them flies, not going any higher than their wands. Before they could actually send up proper sparks, someone, or something, stepped out of the trees.

All three boys quickly back away from the figure, Harry beginning to raise his wand to shoot off bright red sparks, only to freeze when a ray of moonlight revealed that it was a centaur. For at least twenty seconds none of them moved, even the half-horse, half-man with auburn hair and fur.

“Now what might a few Hogwarts students be doing down in the forest?” The centaur finally asked, his voice deep and a bit gravily. “Mars is very bright tonight, it is not safe.”

Harry stared at the centaur in shock, obviously never having seen one before, while Draco took another hesitant, fearful step back, and Theo stepped forward ever so slightly. What did he think he was doing? “We-We have detention out here, Mr. Centaur-sir.” The brunet suddenly said and both other boys looked over at him in shock. Why was he speaking to the centaur? If he said even one wrong thing they were all screwed, though if Draco had ever known Theo, that was something he was aware of.

“With Mars this bright? Something is coming, and I think you’d rather not be here when it does.” Draco glanced over at Harry to see him looking rather perplexed as well, obviously not sure what he meant either. They both knew the planets often “told” certain creatures things based on their color, their brightness, their position in the sky, and many other things that the blond really didn’t want to bother remembering at the moment, but what did Mars being brighter than usual mean?

“There’s a hurt unicorn somewhere in the forest, and we’re supposed to find it. You wouldn’t happen to have seen anything, sir?” Theo continued and Draco turned to face him, his eyes a bit wide and his eyebrows raised. The brunet ignored his look however and simply kept his gaze locked on the centaur, who for a long time didn’t respond.

“Mars is very bright… You ought to find that unicorn rather quickly if you want to avoid what is coming.” He said finally, somewhat repeating his previous words, and then turned around and trotted off, leaving the three of them, and Fang, where they were.

“Do you think it was him we heard before?” Harry asked a few moments later, still staring at the spot of the forest where the centaur, whose name they had not discovered, had disappeared into. Draco finally pulled himself out of his daze and shook his head, though whether it was to clear it, or answer his raven-haired best friend’s question, or both, he wasn’t sure.

“No, that sounded more like… like someone was flying way too close to the ground on their broom, or something like that. Definitely were not hooves…” The blond said, even though he wished he could be saying the opposite. At least then they wouldn’t really have to worry about it being whoever, or whatever, was killing and injuring unicorns.

“Nevermind that, we should keep going, unless of course you idiots want to be here _all night_. I, personally, would rather be in my bed down in the Slytherin dorms, so with or without you two I am going to keep going. Come on, Fang.” Theo said and continued walking down the path in the same direction they had been going before, Hagrid’s dog following at his heels.

Draco glanced over at Harry, who nodded and then began following the Slytherin, his wand still gripped tightly in his right hand. The blond quickly followed, and for the next fifteen or twenty minutes none of them said a word. The silver blood that had previously just specked the side of the path gradually became thicker and the puddles grew larger, with the occasional spray of silvery blue going up the bottom of a tree, as if the unicorn had stumbled and aggravated the wound in a way that it sprayed out rather than just dripped. Eventually a clearing came into view, though most of it was difficult to see until they stepped into the circle of ground where there weren’t any trees due to a particularly old looking oak tree’s branches.

“Look.” Harry mumbled as they stepped into the clearing that was lit with silver moonlight, sticking his arm out to stop both Theo and Draco from going any further. The raven-haired boy pointed towards something white and shimmering that was lying on the ground a few feet from the other side of the clearing. Carefully the three of them approached the thing, only to freeze at practically the same time when they all realized what it was.

The unicorn was lying on its side, its pearlwhite mane spread out behind its head on the dark leaves of the forest. It seemed to glow, as if made of moonlight, and it would’ve been beautiful if it weren’t so obvious that it was no longer alive.

Harry stepped closer to it, shrugging off Draco’s hand that tried to stop him, but he froze after just two steps, seeming to stiffen when the same noise they had heard before, the sweeping sound as if someone were flying by on a broom, came again. Draco and Theo both froze as well and the three of them all stared in horror at the edge of the clearing, where one of the many bushes had begun shaking. Seconds later something came out of it, something that reminded the blond of how his parents had described the way the guards of Azkaban, Dementors, looked. It crawled, or glided more like, slowly across the clearing and didn’t even glance their way when Fang let out a tiny whimper of fear. Then, when the shadowy figure reached the unicorn, instead of picking it up or anything else similar, it sank its head down to the wound at its neck and began to _drink_.

Theo let out a shriek of terror and turned abruptly, bolting out of the clearing with Fang hot on his heels. Harry and Draco stayed exactly where they were, both wide-eyed and terrified as they stared in horror at the figure hunched over the animal that symbolized everything innocent and good in the world. How could someone hurt something like that?

The dark, shadowed figure looked up from the unicorn’s neck as the Slytherin’s scream echoed through the trees and the clearing. Thick silver blood dripped down its front and it slowly rose, as if standing up, beginning to glide towards them like it was a ghost.

Harry suddenly let out a terrified gasp of pain and his left hand flew up to his forehead as if someone had thrown something hard at him. He stumbled back a few steps, and Draco did the same, reaching over to grab onto his best friend’s wrist, both to steady himself and him and to make sure he stayed at his side. “Harry…” The blond’s voice trembled as he mumbled the raven-haired boy’s name. There was no response from him, not even a glance his way, and Draco was about to just turn around, with Harry’s wrist still gripped tightly in his hand, and run. Before he could do this, however, he heard hooves begin galloping towards them from behind and something came soaring over the two first year gryffindors. It landed on the shadowed figure and then reared back on its hind legs, kicking its front two out at the figure just as Harry fell to his knees, still clutching his forehead in pain.

“Harry!” Draco yelped and, glancing up at the centaur that he didn’t recognise in slight fear, knelt down in front of his raven-haired best friend. “Harry, are you okay?” His voice shook slightly in panic as he gripped Harry’s shoulders tightly, trying to get him to respond somehow.

It took about thirty seconds for him to look up, and by then the angry noises the centaur had been making behind them had stopped. Harry’s green eyes shone with a hazy sort of pain for a few seconds before they cleared up and he gave Draco, who was still asking if he was okay, a small, tight smile. “I’m fine, Draco.” He said and the blond frowned in response, obviously not believing him but choosing not to comment on it. After a moment, he helped Harry to his feet and then turned to face the centaur that had likely just saved them.

“Thank you.” Draco said, surprised that his voice was actually still working properly, especially considering he was talking to a centaur.

“What was that?” Harry asked then, but he received no response from the centaur, who looked very different from the one they had met earlier. His hair was long, and almost the same platinum blond as Draco’s, and his eyes were a brilliant blue, similar to Ron’s. He gazed down at the two of them, as if taking them in and trying to figure out who they were and what they were like. His eyes stopped at Harry’s forehead and in that moment Draco realized that his scar seemed to have become a bruise of some sort, like some spell had hit him, and a frown tugged at his lips. 

“You are the Potter boy.” The centaur said finally and, even though it was dark outside, Draco could see Harry’s cheeks flush in embarrassment like they always did when someone mentioned his fame. It was odd that he reacted like that every time, as if he was still becoming comfortable with being known by everybody. “You’d better get back to Hagrid. It’s not safe - especially for you. Can you ride? It’ll be quicker that way.” Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he added. “My name is Firenze.”

The centaur then sunk down to his knees, making it easier for the two of them to climb onto his back. Harry got on without much hesitation, though Draco paused uncertainly for a second before climbing on behind Harry.

Just after Firenze rose to his hooves again more galloping hooves suddenly became audible and seconds later two other centaurs, one of which Draco recognized as the one they had encountered before, burst into the clearing. “Firenze!” Yelled the one that he didn’t recognize angrily, dark eyes glinting dangerously as he glared at the centaur he was addressing. “What are you doing? You have two humans on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?”

This seemed to make Firenze angry as well and he snapped, sounding equal parts annoyed and indignant. “Do you realize who this is? It’s the Potter boy. The sooner he gets out of the forest, the better.” Draco, knowing how dangerous it could be to correct or talk back to a centaur, had to refrain himself from muttering about how he was there too, not just Harry. Saying that would certainly not help them get back to Hagrid and then out of the forest, away from whatever killed the unicorn and somehow hurt Harry.

“What did you tell him?” Demanded the same centaur as before, looking much more disappointed and annoyed now than angry. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows in slight confusion, what did that mean? Did the centaurs know things about the future that they didn’t warn others about? 

The centaur that Harry, Theo, and Draco had met previously in the forest nervously pawed at the ground with his hoof, averting the other two’s eyes. “I’m sure, Firenze thought he was acting for the best…” He said quietly and the other centaur kicked his back legs up angrily, as if he couldn’t believe what the auburn-haired centaur was saying.

“The best! What does that have to do with us? Centaurs only care about what’s written in the stars! It is not our job to follow stray humans around like donkeys!” Suddenly, without any warning, Firenze kicked up with his front legs, leaving only his back two still on the ground. Harry yelped and grabbed hold of the centaur’s shoulders, while Draco frantically wrapped his arms around Harry from behind so that he didn’t fall, trying to to scream out.

“Do you see this unicorn?” Firenze demanded, voice rising angrily in volume. “Do you not understand why it was killed? Or did the planets not tell you that secret? I’m standing up to what’s in this forest, and yes, Bane, with humans at my side, if it has to be like that!” After he said that Firenze spun around and galloped off with them on his back, both Harry and Draco trying desperately to hold on as tightly as they could, leaving the other two centaurs behind.

Draco didn’t have any idea what was going on, and from the brief glimpse he got of Harry’s face while he clung to him so he wouldn’t fall off of Firenze’s back he guessed the raven-haired boy didn’t either.

“Why was that centaur - Bane?- so angry?” The Boy-Who-Lived demanded after they had been galloping through the forest for at least a minute or so. “What was that thing you saved us from earlier?” Firenze didn’t answer either of his questions and simply slowed down his pace a little bit, every once in a while telling them when to duck under a branch. For at least ten minutes they rode in silence, the only sounds audible being Firenze’s hooves as they slammed into the ground and the blood still rushing through Draco’s ears from the adrenaline he had felt in the past half hour.

Finally, when they reached a particularly thick part of the woods, Firenze stopped walking and looked back at them. “Do either of you know what unicorn blood is used for?” He asked, breaking the silence, and for a second both Harry and Draco were too surprised and confused by the strange question to answer. 

“No,” The raven-haired boy admitted after a moment’s pause, glancing at his blond best friend as if to make sure he didn’t know either before continuing. “We only use their hair and horns in potions.” Draco nodded, even though he was sure he had heard somewhere that the blood was used for something, though it wasn’t potions related. He couldn’t quite place what it was, or where he’d heard it from, so he simply kept his mouth shut.

“That is because it is a truly terrible thing to kill a unicorn.” Firenze said and Draco had to bite his lip to stop himself from commenting that technically to take a unicorn’s horn, they also had to at least hurt the creature they took it from. “Only someone with nothing to lose and everything to gain, could commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch away from death - but it comes with a terrible price. He killed something pure and defenseless to save himself, but now he only has half a life, a cursed one, from the moment his lips touched the blood.” 

Both first years seemed to fall into a sort of shocked daze at that, neither one of them having expected something like that. “But who would be so desperate?” Draco asked, even though he knew there were some people in the world who would rather be cursed than die. If he was being completely honest with himself, he got the feeling if his father were truly an inch from death, he would at least consider it. 

“If you become cursed, then isn’t being dead better?” Harry added, his eyebrows scrunched together in a look of confusion as he tried to figure out why someone would want to do something like that.

“That is true.” Firenze agreed, nodding slightly as he turned his head to face away from them again. “Unless you only have to stay alive long enough to drink something else - something that gives one all of one’s strength and power back - something that makes it so one never dies. Do you know what is in the school at this very moment?”

The second he said that both Harry and Draco gasped slightly and exclaimed at the same time. “The Philosopher’s Stone!” They looked at each other for a brief second before Harry mumbled something, a line suddenly appearing between his knit eyebrows as he said something about who would steal the stone. 

“Can you think of no one who has waited years to return to power, who has held onto life and waited for his chance?”

It hit Draco like a curse who Firenze was referring to, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. If he returned, then there would be no hope left for anything. His father would likely return to his side, he would either become some sort of pawn, or he would be killed, and Harry… there was no way Harry would be able to survive if he returned. The blond gulped in fear and noticed that Harry had begun to tremble ever so slightly, obviously having realized who Firenze was talking about as well.

“You mean…” Harry’s voice broke slightly and Draco, who was still sitting rather close to him, couldn’t stop himself from reaching forward and softly grabbing his best friend’s wrist, hoping it could somehow reassure him. “That was _Vol_ \- “

A shout from nearby interrupted Harry and both gryffindors looked up, spotting Hermione running towards them, her hair even bushier than usual as if the wind had messed it up. “Harry! Draco! Are you okay?” She demanded and Draco spotted Hagrid and, surprisingly, also Theo and Fang following her.

“I’m fine.” The raven-haired boy in front of him said, his voice trembling slightly, and the blond gave him a concerned look, knowing that was a lie. 

“So am I. Hagrid, the unicorn’s dead. It’s lying in a clearing somewhere over there.” Draco said and the gamekeeper nodded slightly, running off in the direction he was pointing to go examine the unicorn.

“This is where I leave you.” Firenze murmured then, looking down at Hermione for a few seconds. “You are safe now.” 

Draco and Harry both slid down off the centaur’s back, the latter of which would’ve stumbled had the former not grabbed his arm and held him up, once again looking at him with concern glinting in his silvery grey eyes. “Good luck, Harry Potter.” Firenze said and both first years looked up at him as he bowed his head slightly. “The planets have been read incorrectly by centaurs many times before, I hope it is the same this time.” With that said the centaur turned and galloped off, leaving them there, Harry once again trembling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wasn't sure whether to add the last scene from the chapter in the book, but I decided against it, mainly just because the next two chapters of this will be mainly just interaction with the quartet and honestly there wasn't anything really said in that part that wasn't already in the rest of the chapter, so.. yeah... anyways, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Sorry I keep posting chapters super late at night, btw... I never really get time to edit during the day so I tend to edit right before I go to bed and then post...  
> Also, what do you all think of the prank on Snape? Who do you think did it? It might be obvious, idk...


	16. Fathers and Summer Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter and the next one are fillers, so they're shorter.Like, this one is probably another one of my shortest chapters. It's like 2,000 words and like 3-4 pages on Google Docs. Most of mine are like 8,000 words now, so... sorry about the length of this... or lack of length... Also, I'm not really super proud of this chapter, towards the end it just got kinda poorly written, I feel like, so I'm sorry about that... Also... still no art, apparently... I just can seem to find the time to finish any of what I've started.

The week before their finals was rather uneventful at Hogwarts, and for once the castle actually seemed like a school. Everyone spent most of their time studying, even the Weasley twins, no matter how surprising that was. The library became full, every table taken almost constantly, and the Great Hall was filled with students quizzing each other during meals. Hermione was one of the most hectic with all of this, and had begun quizzing Harry, Ron, and Draco whenever she could. She did it while they were trying to take a short break and Ron and Draco played a game of chess, while they were walking from one class to another, even while they were finishing their last few homework assignments. It got rather annoying after the first three days, no matter how useful it was. They only used the Bertie Botts game when they were in the back corner of the library where they were mostly left alone, and it seemed more like just a bit of fun than studying because they at least got to do something amusing as well.

The day before their first exam they spent most of their time in the unusually empty Common Room, finishing their last couple essays and randomly asking each other questions that they suspected would be on the tests. The only sounds in the room had been their voices, the scritch-scratching of their quills against parchment, and the sound of pages being turned in books, until a different scratching noise coming from the window beside their table caused them all to flinch and look up. Draco froze when he saw the owl that was flying in place just outside, waiting for someone to let it in, and it took the blond a good twenty seconds to shake himself out of his daze enough to stand up and open the window, his hands trembling ever so slightly. 

His father's owl flew in a circle around the room and then landed on one of the stacks of textbooks they had piled up on their table, holding out its left leg. Draco stared at Thoth in horror for a few seconds and slowly looked down at the envelope attached to the owl's leg. It wasn’t bright, scarlet red as the last one had been, but that barely made the blond feel any relief. If his father had sent him a letter, it couldn't mean anything good. 

He gulped slightly and then, with trembling hands, clumsily untied the envelope from Thoth's leg. The envelope was made of parchment, like his Hogwarts letter had been, and the dark green wax seal on the back had the Malfoy family crest pressed into it. Draco stared at the letter in his hands for at least half a minute before slowly turning it over in his hands again and splitting the seal so he could open it. His hands seemed to tremble even more as he slipped the letter out of the envelope and he almost dropped the parchment as he unfolded it, letting the envelope fall onto the table. None of his friends said a word as he slowly began to read what his father had written.

_ Draco, _

_ I am not writing this letter to apologize to you in any way, I am still very disappointed in you, and your recent behavior at school has not helped this in the slightest. This was written so I could inform you that, while I may have in a sense said otherwise in my last letter, we are expecting you to come back to the Manor for the summer. Dobby will pick you up from King's Cross station after the Hogwarts Express brings you there and I expect you to behave and follow the rules of our household over the summer.  _

_ I hope you do not disappoint your mother and I even more with your grades, as do I hope that your sneaking out in the middle of the night was a one-time thing, and not something you do on a regular basis. You have brought enough shame on our family simply by being sorted into Gryffindor of all houses, Ravenclaw would have at least been acceptable but the house of the "brave" is just disrespectful, we do not want you to be known as one of those no-good student who goes off on "adventures" and pulls pranks on their professors simply for a laugh. _

_ That being said, I think that is all. _

_ \- Father _

_ P.S.: I apologize for your father's unwillingness to take back his disowning of you, you are our only heir so we cannot strictly disown you without sentencing the family name to end after us. I would like to say that I hope your year has been enjoyable so far, and that while I am disappointed in your choice of sneaking out after curfew, it is a part of school that I remember. Until this summer. - Mother _

The last paragraph was written in both different ink and very different, more loopy handwriting that Draco recognized immediately. For a few seconds all the blond did was stare at the piece of parchment that was slowly becoming a bit wrinkled and scrunched up in his hands which were forming fists. His chest tightened painfully, though whether it was from anger or anguish, he couldn’t tell. The two emotions felt rather similar most of the time, especially when he was pretty sure he was feeling both.

“Draco?” Harry’s voice pulled him out of his momentary daze and he looked up from the letter, noticing that his vision had gone slightly blurred when he did so. Draco let go of the parchment with one hand and rather angrily rubbed at his eyes with the back of his left hand, feeling tears make it wet and roll down into his palm and down his arm. “Are you okay?” The blond took a deep breath and nodded, even though he knew he probably didn’t look okay. The tears in his eyes wouldn’t stop coming, even though he didn’t know what exactly was causing them in the first place. His father had said much worse things in the Howler he had sent Draco on the second day of school, what he wrote in the letter shouldn’t hurt, so why did it?

Hermione frowned in his direction and stood up from her chair, going over to the blond and swiftly wrapping her arms around him when he began to tremble slightly. “It’s going to be okay.” She said softly and he turned around to hug her back, wanting to hide the tears that just seemed to be coming faster. Then suddenly he felt another person join the hug, and then another.

“Yeah, mate, if over the summer you need to get away from your family, you’re welcome at my house.” Ron said and Draco pulled away a bit to look over at the redhead in shock, sure he had misheard him.

“I can?” He asked, his voice strangely quiet and weak. Ron nodded without hesitation, the slight glint in his blue eyes showing that he thought it was obvious that he meant what he said.

“Of course. My mum said all of you could, you just have to ask and then you can come over, stay however long you want. Hermione, you’d probably have to sleep in Ginny’s room if you stayed longer than a day, but either way you’re all allowed to come to Burrow whenever. Though, I’d suggest not coming immediately because the first two weeks back are always super hectic and mum is very… if I say clingy and she finds out, I’ll probably be in a lot of trouble, but she is. She gushes over everyone who comes back like she hasn’t had any contact with them for over a decade.” The redhead rambled slightly and Draco felt the stinging burn in his eyes begin to dull, tears no longer rolling down his cheeks.

A small smile tugged at his lips and Ron grinned in return, looking satisfied like he had done what he intended to. “I’ll be taking you up on that offer at some point this summer. Even if my mother is as kind to me as she used to be, which I kind of doubt she will, my father will be pretty… terrible, I think.” The blond mumbled and his red-headed best friend nodded, as if he expected that.

“If I can, I’ll take you up on that too…” Harry said and Draco looked over at him to see his green eyes glinting with slight uncertainty. Ron did as well and smiled at the raven-haired boy, nodding.

“Mum’ll be happy to have more people to stuff with food. Just owl me whenever you want us to get you away from your muggle relatives. Well, don’t  _ just _ owl us for that, you better keep in touch over the summer.” The redhead’s blue eyes glinted with a steely sort of look and he met Draco’s eyes as well, obviously intending for him to get the message to do the same.

“Course I will, I’ll keep you up to date on everything stupid my cousin does, and whatever… interesting things happen at my aunt and uncle’s house over the summer.” Harry said and grinned, even though it seemed a bit forced.

“Good. You… good now, Dray?” Ron asked then and the blond he was addressing rolled his eyes and shoved him away, even though a grin was tugging at his lips and his grey eyes, once filled with tears, glinted with amusement.

“I thought I told you not to call me that.” The redhead simply smirked in response and then stood up, walking back over to his seat and sitting down. He looked down at the Charms essay he had been writing, a small scowl replacing his smirk.

“I hate homework with every ounce of my being.” Ron muttered and the other three gryffindors snorted, shaking their heads as Harry and Hermione went back to their chairs as well. Thoth, Draco’s father’s owl, had flown off through the window again at some point, like the school owl’s not waiting for a treat. Somehow when he glanced down at the letter from his father that was still crumpled in his hand he didn’t feel the tightening in his chest anymore, in fact he didn't feel anything. Even though his friends had only said a few things, most of which weren’t even about the letter, he felt better, and a small smile spread across his face as he went back to his Transfiguration essay that he had abandoned when Thoth had shown up.

* * *

_ Dear Aunt Andromeda, _

_ I know I owled you a few days ago, and that I haven’t even received a response from you as of yet, but I feel like I need to.  _

_ First off, even though I already asked this in my last letter, how are you? I am doing alright, considering we have our final exams starting tomorrow and the reason for why I’m writing this. My father sent me an owl earlier today, informing me of, what I suppose is good news, the fact that I am still coming back to the Manor over the summer holidays. He also made sure to point out that I am still a disappointment to him, which I suppose shouldn’t have come as much of a shock considering he sent me a Howler informing me of that on the second day of school simply because of my house. It hurt, but it helped me realize that over this past year my friends have become more of my family than he and my mother are. _

_ That probably sounds rather ridiculous, and my father would say that there is nothing more important than your blood, but still, it’s the truth. They’ve stuck around even though I wasn’t very nice to them at first, and they’re still friends with me after all these months. _

_ Ron told me I could come and stay with his family for as long as I want over the summer. I never expected to have a friend who would offer something like that simply because my parents don’t exactly like me at the moment. Before Hogwarts none of my friends ever even invited me to their houses for more than the day, which now that I think about it is slightly strange. Anyways, that is beside the point.  _

_ I think Harry may be hiding something about his muggle relatives. The closer we’ve gotten to summer, the more on-edge he’s been, and I don’t know if it’s just because his scar’s been bugging him ever since the detention in the forest, or if it’s something else. He never speaks about his relatives unless it’s necessary and when he does he’s always very vague about everything, like he’s nervous that if he says something more we’ll be scared off or something. _

_ Okay, that is all I think I wanted to say… I’m looking forward to your letter. _

_ Draco _


	17. Final Exams, a Birthday and Bullies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not, I have not abandoned this story! Actually, I doubt anyone really cared, but whatever.
> 
> I wanted to finish this quite a while ago, but I struggled with this chapter for whatever reason. Also midway through writing this I sort of burned my thumb on a chord that overheated and fried, I guess you could say, and so I have this big bandage thing on it, which makes it sort of difficult to type. Note to my future self: Never break or hurt your thumb or wrist or fingers in any way, writing sucks when you do. If this is kind of bad, I'm sorry. This is another short chapter, but the next one should be longer. The beginning of the end of this fic is starting next chapter, when they get past Fluffy. I’ve already written basic versions of the rest of the chapters, so hopefully I’ll get those up sooner.
> 
> Also, my brother kept bugging me to finish this., so... yeah. Not sure whether to thank you or tell you to leave me alone, bro...
> 
> By the way, yes I checked to see if the day of the week added up with the date and somehow it did? I honestly wasn't expecting it to be the correct day of the week, but... well, I'm glad it did, even if I'm slightly confused about how I guessed?
> 
> Speaking of days and such, I decided to push the events of "Through The Trapdoor" back a day, simply because it made more sense for this chapter.
> 
> Also, I decided to put all the art in the last chapter, or make it it's own chapter, simply because that makes sense to me and I am only mostly done with all of it.
> 
> Anyways, here's the next sort of filler chapter.

_Dear Draco,_

_I am doing well, thank you for asking, and I’m pleased to hear that you are as well. I have to admit, I was rather surprised when I received your second letter, usually you wait for me to respond first. I am not complaining in any way however, you know how much I love hearing from you, even if it is only about your normal everyday life that you seem to consider rather boring, though I find it anything but that._

_I am incredibly sorry about your father, he has always been the sort to put bloodlines and traditions before most else, which in my younger years I saw as admirable but now I simply see as something rather cowardly. Take pride in being different from Lucius, you have much more of your mother in you. To you that may not sound like a particularly good thing, but I assure you, I mean it as a compliment. Your mother has always been rather sympathetic, even if she attempts to hide it from the world, which is something that sets you apart from her._

_I’m glad you have friends in your life who you feel so connected to and loved by, I never really had that in my school years. I had more of a group of people who stayed around me out of a mix of fear and respect, but now I wish I had made friends as you have, they are a great help to you in many ways, that I can tell clearly just from your letters. It’s great that you have a place you know you can go over the summer where you feel happy, for I believe it to be a terrible thing for one to spend time in a place that feels cold and empty - I spent enough summers as a child feeling the same way, and I can tell you, just knowing there’s a place that feels warm and loving out there for you to go will make things feel less painful._

_A small tip about Harry, I would suggest not trying to pry an answer out of him on whether there is something more going on with his family than he is telling you. If it is truly something serious, he will either tell you himself or you will find out soon on your own. Still, perhaps ask him offhandedly about his relatives, he may say something to at least hint at what’s going on. I wouldn’t brush off the idea that it may not even truly be something bad, and it may simply be something normal, but don’t brush aside other possibilities. If you are worried about him, then I would suggest letting him know. Sometimes just knowing somebody can tell something is bothering you helps you realize something is. Like I said, however, don’t pry too much, that might freak him out and cause him to hide himself away._

_I would love to hear about your exams once they are over, but for now I would suggest simply trying to study for those remaining and don’t doubt yourself. A big part of success is confidence. I’ll be awaiting your next letter, and until then I say good luck on your exams, and don’t worry too much about what the future holds, focus more on the present before it slips away._

_Aunt Andromeda_

* * *

The exams all turned out to be much easier than any of them anticipated, and the two weeks they spent taking them seemed to blur together. Every day had practically the same schedule: get up, breakfast, one class’s exam, lunch, study for the next day’s exam, and then dinner before more studying, and then bed. The first week they had written exams, both Herbology and History of Magic on Friday, and Astronomy late at night on Wednesday. The second week they had “performance” exams, where they had to demonstrate what they knew, with the same schedule as the week before.

For the written exams they were given special quills that were bewitched so you couldn’t cheat, which was something that Draco technically should have foreseen, but somehow didn’t. Not that he tried to cheat, he had known everything on the exams, though it certainly felt more stressful, especially considering how hot it was in the rooms they had their exams in.

After all of it, Draco, and practically every other student at the school, felt as if they were dead on their feet from exhaustion. Still, the whole school seemed to be abuzz with excitement. The Friday they finished their exams on, June 5th, was one of the hottest they’d had all year. The sun beat down on Hogwarts, bathing the whole castle in unbearable heat. The air in the exam room they were tested in seemed to boil, the stone floor that over the winter was ice cold to the touch shimmered with heat. Outside wasn’t much better than inside, though most of the students were heading out there after exams simply because there was a soft breeze blowing, which made it feel cooler than being trapped in a room with no shift happening in the air at all.

“Why does school have to end in summer? Can’t it end in winter, so we could take our exams without getting heatstroke?” Ron said as they left the room where they had just taken their History of Magic exam, fidgeting with the strap of his bag as if it were uncomfortable. 

“In some places school does end in the winter, but would taking exams while it’s freezing be any better than while it’s scorching?” Hermione retorted and rolled her eyes slightly as she pushed a few stray strands of hair out of her face. The redhead shrugged slightly, as if he knew she had a point but didn’t want to admit it aloud, and averted his gaze out one of the windows they passed as they descended the staircase leading to the entrance hall. The sun shone brightly high in the bright blue sky, barely a cloud in sight, and the lake glistened in the sun down below them.

“Either way though, we’ve survived our exams! We’re free!” Harry exclaimed, sort of pumping his fists in the air as he skipped a step, nearly tripping and falling down the last bit of the staircase they were on. Draco snorted in amusement at the slightly childish way his best friend was acting, though he secretly felt the same. They were finally free of studying, homework, and proper classes.

“Until next year at least.” The blond said and the raven-haired boy shot him a slightly annoyed look, some of the enthusiasm draining out of his posture. He gave Draco a look that clearly said ‘really?’, to which he only shrugged. “What? We-” Before Draco could finish what he meant to say however, someone ran into him, almost knocking him down.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-” A familiar voice gasped out, only to cut off as its owner looked up at the boy he had run into. “Oh, thank Merlin. I was just looking for you four.” Theodore Nott ran a hand through his mess of chocolate brown curls, his flushed cheeks puffing out as he heaved in unsteady breaths. He leaned forward slightly, bracing his hands against his knees as he tried to return his breathing to a normal pace like someone who had just run a mile. Judging by the way he looked, it seemed likely that he had at least ran halfway through the castle.

“What do you want, Nott?” Ron demanded, his tone icy as he glanced briefly over at Draco, who was straightening his robes, though almost being knocked over hadn’t really done anything to cause them to need straightening. The redhead turned his gaze back to the slytherin standing in front of them, who was mostly composed once again.

“I want to warn you.” The brunet said, his tone somewhat exasperated as if he expected what he had said was obvious. “I’m not here to be a prick, in fact for once I’m trying to be nice. Pansy and Blaise are trying to find you lot, and I thought I ought to tell you so you could get away first. I highly doubt Draco wants to be hexed on his birthday.” The blond he was talking about raised a skeptical eyebrow, looking suspicious of the other boy’s intentions.

“And why should we believe you, Theo? You haven’t said one nice, or even remotely friendly, thing to any of us since the beginning of the school year; why would you suddenly change your attitude towards us?” Draco asked, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to look as if he really didn’t believe a word his past best friend had said.

“Look,” Theo sighed, hesitating for a moment as he fidgeted with the collar of his shirt before continuing. “I know I’ve given you no evidence of me being a nice person in any sense, and I’m not saying I am, but I swear, I’m not lying.” 

Ron snorted slightly, rolling his eyes in obvious disbelief. “Like I believe th-“ Before the redhead could finish however, Harry stepped forward, looking up slightly at the slytherin. His emerald eyes glinted with distrust behind his glasses, but he seemed to be slightly less hostile towards the other boy than his redheaded best friend.

“Why would you bother telling us what your friends are up to, if it didn’t have something to do with you?” The raven-haired boy asked skeptically, crossing his arms in a similar stance to Draco. “For all we know you could be stalling, or trying to lure us into a trap of some sort.” Despite his better judgement, the blond who was standing just a bit behind Harry couldn’t deny that he had a point. Some part of him wanted to believe that Theo really wasn’t as terrible as he had seemed over the past few months, but in reality he knew that was simply wishful thinking done by the small part of him that still longed for his old life, before everything was difficult and out of control.

“Maybe, I have no way of proving to you I’m not, but as I said before; I swear I’m not lying. I may not particularly like any of you, but I don’t really think anyone should be hexed or cursed simply because my friends don’t like them, especially if it’s the person’s birthday. Seriously, you guys should get out of here before they show up. They have some nasty hexes up their sleeves, you don’t want to-“ The slytherin broke off abruptly mid sentence when another voice, one they all recognized and rather hated, called his name from the end of the corridor.

“Theo!” Pansy stalked towards the small group, a nasty smirk stretched across her lips. Blaise trailed half a step behind her, looking amused and bored at the same time, his stride confident. “Ah, you found them.” 

Theo looked at her with a bit of fear in his dark eyes for a moment, before quickly covering it up with a look of amusement that Draco subconsciously recognized as fake. “Yeah, got them to stay here and not wander off to their common room.” A smirk, that looked somewhat less obviously forced tugged at the brunet’s lips, and his gaze flickered towards the four gryffindors, an almost apologetic glint in them.

“I knew I was right…” Ron muttered under his breath, glaring at the first years from their rivaling house with a scowl on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes, wacking his arm in clear annoyance. “ _What_?” The redhead hissed and she just sighed, shaking her head as she rolled eyes once again. It seemed perhaps Draco was not the only one who noticed the forced looks, though Hermione had always attempted to see the good in people, so it may not have been that.

“How’s the _birthday boy_?” Pansy said with a smirk and an amused tilt of the head, dark eyes glinting. She stepped closer to Draco, one hand in the right pocket of her robes, likely gripping her wand. Theo was probably not lying about at least the hexes and curses thing, and the blond really would rather he and his friends not get hit by any such thing, especially on his birthday. 

“Fine, though I would rather not deal with you right now.” He said coolly and before he could see what any of the Slytherins’ reactions were, Draco grabbed Ron and Harry’s arms and spun around. The three of them, Hermione following after them, practically ran through the corridors of the castle, heading towards Gryffindor Tower. Behind them Draco could hear laughter, though it was impossible to tell if it was the slytherins’, or not. He felt like a coward as he ran, not stopping until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, where he stumbled slightly before gasping out the password, slipping into the common room with his three best friends. What Gryffindor ran from something like that? He hadn’t even been in danger, they hadn’t even _said_ anything bad, Draco had fled too quickly for them to have. Draco tried to convince himself he simply didn’t want to lose more points for “dueling the corridors”, but he knew that wasn’t really the reason, he had been scared of being hexed.

The blond stood in the entrance to the common room for a long moment, contemplating where to go as Harry, Ron, and Hermione did the same, all silent. The Common Room was louder than it had been in months. Nobody had to study anymore, and it seemed as if they were celebrating. Someone had, just like after the second Quidditch game Gryffindor had won that year, managed to sneak food and drinks out of the kitchen and into Gryffindor Tower. Groups of students were gathered in all places, taking up practically every possible seat. Seconds later, as if they knew what the others were thinking, all four of them ran to the spiraling staircase that led up to the boys’ dorm rooms, taking the stairs two steps at a time and practically falling through the door into the 1st years’ dorm. In sync they all let themselves fall back into a four poster bed -the boys onto their own and Hermione onto Dean’s-, a rather loud thud coming from the thick blankets beneath them that they stripped off at night so as to not burn alive.

“Well, that went well.” Ron said after a few minutes of silence, in a slightly amused tone of voice. Draco scoffed somewhat sarcastically and sat up on his bed. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his blond hair, which had mostly escaped its gel by that point in the day.

“Yeah, well…” The blond trailed off, suddenly feeling insecure again, his thoughts from while they fled to Gryffindor Tower returning swiftly as if they hadn’t disappeared briefly. Perhaps they hadn’t, perhaps they had only been pushed to the back of his mind so they didn’t disturb him. “Merlin, I feel like such a coward for running away. They didn’t even really say anything! I literally just said I didn’t want to talk to them and then ran away. How am I a Gryffindor if I can’t even find the courage to stand up to my old friends?” Draco buried his face in his hands, letting himself fall back onto his bed in sudden exhaustion.

“Sometimes walking away is braver than staying put. You’re not a coward. The hat put you here for a reason, Draco.” Hermione said, her voice more determined than he had ever heard it, even when they were studying and she was saying she would pass. The blond looked over at her in surprise, not having expected her to say something like that. She always seemed to be such a logical person, who looked at the facts and just saw what they meant. How did she think he wasn’t a coward for running? Wasn’t that the definition of the word, someone who runs away? Still, her words must have had some effect on him, for a small smile tugged at his lips and he looked up at the curtain covering the top of his bed, dropping his hands back down onto the bed beside him. He wasn’t sure how to respond to her, and it seemed she wasn’t looking for one since the room fell back into silence for a few moments after that. 

“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we were in different houses, if I was in Slytherin like I thought I would growing up. Would I be like them? Pansy and Blaise, I mean. Would I make your lives miserable? Would we even interact? Would we hate each other?” Draco’s voice was soft as he broke the silence, voicing thoughts that he had obviously had somewhat often. For a moment none of his friends said a word, and he wondered if perhaps his thoughts were rather pointless, and didn’t need to be spoken, especially not at such a random point in time.

“I’d like to think we wouldn’t,” Harry then said, cutting off the blond’s doubts abruptly. “But in all honesty, I didn’t particularly like you at first, and you were sort of a git, so… I don’t know. But who cares? You’re a Gryffindor, and you’re my best friend, we’re all best friends, that's what really matters, I think. We have each other and there’s no point in dwelling on what life would be like if we didn’t.” The raven-haired boy glanced over at Draco for a second then before looking up again. There was truth to his words, that he knew, though it didn’t particularly put a stop to his thoughts. He was sure that had he been in Slytherin, he may have been even worse than his old friends. _It doesn’t matter though._ Draco told himself firmly and forced himself to believe it. There really was no point in dwelling on what ifs.

“Yeah, even though being best friends with you lot certainly got me into a lot of trouble, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” Ron agreed then, turning his head towards the other three in the room. His blue eyes were shining with slight amusement and affection, as if he was both joking and being more serious than he had ever been before.

“You guys are the best friends I’ve ever had. Not that I’ve really had any before, but I think you would still be the best I’ve ever had if that were different.” Hermione said, also looking at the others with affection shining in her dark eyes. 

“Gee, who knew you were all such saps.” Draco said with a small chuckle, even though he had a wide grin on his face. He had never had anyone express their love and affection for him in any way before. The most he had ever received was from his mother when he was young, and that was only a distant memory that was blurred and distorted, stored somewhere in the back of his mind, almost impossible to access. None of his old friends had ever been particularly affectionate, the most he got from them was Theo sharing a book with him that he thought he would enjoy, Blaise playing Quidditch with him, and Pansy staying up late talking with him about everything and nothing. They all showed affection in subtle ways like that, they never voiced it, and for some reason having someone do so now made him feel like they cared more, in some way.

“Well, for all we know Voldemort could come back and kill us all in the next couple days or weeks. We might as well be sappy while we still can, right?” Harry joked and then sat up with a sudden look of regret on his face, his eyebrows knitted together and his green eyes darker than usual. “I wish I could go just one day without thinking about the stone and whether or not Snape’s tried to steal it again yet, or if he already has.” Almost absentmindedly, Harry rubbed at the lightning scar on his forehead, a troubled expression on his face that had become a rather common look for him. Most likely assumed it had to do with exams, Neville had even told Harry that’s what it likely was, but it wasn’t that, Draco knew that, and so did Ron and Hermione, even if they didn’t fully want to accept it.

“I’m sure we’d know if he had.” Draco muttered under his breath, sitting up again as well as he looked over at the other boy. “C’mon,” He quickly changed his tone of voice to an enthusiastic one in an attempt to change the mood. “We just finished our exams, it’s my birthday, and a Friday night. Why don’t we all play chess or something?” At this suggestion Ron sat up, a grin on his face, obviously agreeing.

“I suck at chess!” Harry protested, a look of annoyance clear on his face, and Draco grinned cheekily over at him as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“So? All the more fun it’ll be to play.” From across the room Ron burst out laughing, doubling over himself and clutching his stomach as if his insides would spill out if he didn’t. Their raven-haired best friend scowled at the redhead and picked up one of his pillows, throwing it swiftly in his direction. Instead of hitting him in the face as it should have it was caught midair by Ron, who looked a bit shocked but also rather smug as he lowered the pillow and then placed it beside him.

“Shut up!” Harry mumbled, glaring at them as Draco snorted and Hermione began giggling softy. Still, despite his attempt to appear angry, a small grin was tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“You guys are idiots.” Hermione said as she attempted to stifle her laughter behind her hand, though she was mostly unsuccessful. Draco grinned over at her then and ran a hand through his hair again.

“They are, we’re the smart ones.” He said cheekily and the brunette grinned in return, only to burst out laughing again a few moments later when Ron yelled: “Hey!” and threw the pillow Harry had thrown at him moments before at the blond.


	18. A Three-Headed Dog, Killer Vines and Flying Keys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is definitely longer, possibly (Definitely, it's almost 12,000 words, help) the longest in the book so far, though for that the next chapter will probably be a bit shorter (that seems to sort of be my thing, lol). We're finally at the action-filled part of the book now, yay! Honestly, is there a reason Voldemort always waits till the end of the schoolyear to have his annual showdown (or whatever) with Harry? Like, does he want him to be smarter before he tries to kill him or something? Or does he want to make sure Harry gets through his exams in case he fails to kill him so that he knows where he'll be the next year? This is suddenly confusing me and I don't know why, lol...
> 
> Also, while writing this I realized I've been making a grammar mistake in every single one of my chapters. I keep writing dialogue wrong, or more specifically the punctuation of dialogue and dialogue tags (y'know, "..." He/She said), so... this chapter finally has it correct, sorry I've been doing it wrong, lol.
> 
> Anyways, onto the story!

The next day was even hotter than the day they finished their exams, and, for what felt like the first time in months, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco went outside instead of into the library. The sun blazed brightly overhead in the clear blue sky, barely a cloud in sight, and even before they’d left the castle the four of them had shed their outer-robes, leaving them in their relatively muggle uniforms. Nobody had classes, not only because it was the day after exams, but also because it was a Saturday, and most of the school was hanging out somewhere outside, seeking mercy from the sun and the heat in the shade of either the castle or one of the many trees scattered across Hogwarts’ grounds. Some of the students, including the Weasley twins and their best friend, Lee Jordan, were messing around in the lake, either swimming or, in the case of the three previously mentioned gryffindors, tickling the tentacles of the Giant Squid, which had emerged from the depths of the lake to be in warmer water.

“Finally, no more homework!” Ron sighed happily and let himself collapse onto the grass underneath an oak tree that stood near the shore of the lake. He dropped his outer-robes onto the ground and stretched out on his back like one of the many cats that resided in Gryffindor Tower. “Y’know, you could look a bit happier, Harry, we still have a week until we find out how bad we did. We’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Draco, who both agreed and disagreed with the redhead on that matter, just sighed and let himself sit down beside his best friend, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree. He looked up at Harry and saw, as he somewhat expected, him rubbing his scar with his now almost signature concerned scowl.

“I just want to know what it  _ means _ !” He growled, throwing himself down next to Draco, exasperated and annoyed. “My scar keeps burning - it’s happened before, but never this bad!” Once again he rubbed his scar and huffed, momentarily letting his green eyes fall shut behind his glasses.

“Go to Madam Pomfrey.” Both Draco and Hermione, who had sat down on the grass with her back to the lake, said at the same time.

“I’m not ill.” Harry said, suddenly sounding more exhausted than annoyed. “I think it’s a warning… it means danger…”

Draco frowned slightly, knowing his best friend was likely right. He remembered in the forest, when the cloaked figure that ended up being Voldemort had turned to face them, how Harry had screamed out and clutched at his forehead in pain. If he said it was a warning for danger, Draco believed him, Ron and Hermione however, did not. Maybe it was because they hadn’t seen Voldemort, or how Harry reacted to him, or maybe it was just because they were in denial of it. Either way, both of them only seemed to care about the fact that classes and exams were over.

“Relax, Harry.” Ron said, glancing briefly over at the lake when George screamed as one of the Giant Squid’s tentacles hit him and knocked him backwards into the water, causing Fred and Lee to burst out laughing. “Hermione’s right, the stone’s safe as long as Dumbledore’s here. Besides, we still don’t have any proof that Snape even knows how to get past Fluffy. He almost ripped his leg off once, he won’t try to get past him again quite so quick. And Neville’ll be playing Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down.”

Draco snorted at the redhead’s statement, though he agreed. He wondered if Hagrid had been a Hufflepuff while in school, he certainly had the loyalty trait. Then again, he wasn’t exactly incredibly good at keeping secrets, he had already told them way more about everything that was going on than he was supposed to, and most of the time he hadn’t even intended to.

Harry looked slightly uncertain, like Draco felt, though he nodded slightly. His agreement with Ron, however, didn’t seem to last very long, and just a moment later he spoke; “It’s just, I feel like I forgot to do something, something important. I don’t really know how to describe it, it’s almost like right before I fell asleep I thought of something I needed to do, but when I woke up all I could remember was that there was  _ something _ , and I just can’t figure out what it is.”

Ron pushed himself up slightly, propping his elbows up behind him as he looked over at the Boy-Who-Lived with a confused glint in his eyes. His eyebrows were scrunched together and the left corner of his lips tugged downwards in a half-frown.

Draco shrugged slightly, he sort of understood what Harry meant. He had felt the same way for most of the past few months, sometimes he thought it had to do with school, other times he thought it had to do with the Philosopher's Stone.

“It’s just the exams. Last night I woke up and got through half of my Transfiguration notes before I remembered that we’re already done with everything.” Hermione was obviously trying to sound reassuring, whether it was to convince herself or Harry was unclear, but either way he didn’t look convinced. 

None of them said anything for a while after that. Ron let himself lay back down in the grass, closing his eyes and crossing his arms behind his head. Hermione pulled a thick, leatherbound book out of her bag that she had brought out with her for whatever reason and flipped it open, immediately getting invested in it. Harry stared up at the sky, the distant look that always crossed his face when he was concentrating or thinking clouding his eyes. Draco watched the Weasley twins and Lee, somewhat distractedly, as they continued to get shoved by the Giant Squid, now all soaked in lake water. 

Now that Harry had mentioned the feeling, it seemed to suddenly have returned to the blond, enveloping him. There was something he was missing, something that should be obvious, something he should see without trying to, but couldn’t. 

Suddenly, before Draco could even attempt to figure out what it was he was missing from the situation, Harry sprang to his feet, the distant look dissipating from his face. “Where are you going?” Ron asked, cracking his eyes open to look up at his best friend, seeming to have just been pulled out of a half-asleep daze.

“I just realized something,” Harry said slowly, growing pale as if he was suddenly terrified. Draco sat up straighter, he had never seen his raven-haired best friend look so scared, even in the Forbidden Forest. Something was wrong, really wrong. “We need to go to Hagrid’s, right now.” Without another word he turned and walked off in the direction of the gamekeeper’s cabin on the edge of the forest.

Draco and Hermione, who had snapped her book shut the second Harry had stood up, both pushed themselves to their feet and ran after him, Ron following a few paces behind them. “Why?” The latter of the two gasped when she caught up to Harry, looking over at him with confusion and concern evident in her gaze.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd,” Harry said instead of answering, somehow speeding up his pace a bit more. “That what Hagrid wants more than anything is to have a dragon and then, out of nowhere, a stranger with an egg just so happens to show up? How many people just walk around with Dragon Eggs in their pockets, even though it’s against the law? Right lucky that he found Hagrid. Why didn’t I see it before?”

Draco stared at him in shock, his mind putting together the pieces that Harry had, and it made sense. It was so obvious that he felt like slapping himself for not having noticed sooner. Seriously, who would’ve traded a dragon egg over a simple game of cards, especially when doing so could get them thrown into Azkaban, if they didn’t have some bigger plan?

“What are you trying to say?” Ron asked and, not for the first time, Draco questioned how he was so good at chess and strategy and, in all honesty, quite often schoolwork, but was still oblivious about simple things that were being explained to him, or were just plain obvious. He expected Harry to respond and explain to his best friend what he meant, since he usually did so when he was the only person in their group confused, but he kept silent as he marched determinedly towards Hagrid’s hut.

When they arrived there a few moments later they found Hagrid sitting in an armchair in front of his hut, for once having shed his thick coat and having rolled his sleeves and pant legs up to his knees and elbows. He had two huge bowls on the ground beside him, one filled with peapods and the other partially filled with single peas. As they approached him, he picked up a pod from the first bowl and broke it open, spilling a few peas into the second one. It took him a few seconds to realize they were even there, too caught up in what he was doing, but when finally did notice them a wide grin spread across his face.

“Hullo,” Hagrid greeted them cheerfully, momentarily abandoning his peas to speak with them. “All done with studyin’ and yer exams? Got time fer a drink?”

The offer was tempting, admittedly, with how hot it was, and it would certainly make it so they could easily start a conversation to lead up to asking Hagrid about the person who had given him Norbert’s egg. Ron seemingly agreed, though likely only for the first reason seeing as he was still rather clueless as to what was going on, and grinned. “Yes, please.” 

Before Draco could say he too agreed, however, Harry spoke, stepping a bit closer to Hagrid with an odd look on his face. Usually he could read what his best friend was feeling rather easily on his expression, at least when he wasn’t too upset, his expression closed off and became blank when he was, but now he didn’t have a clue what he felt. It wasn’t necessarily because Harry was hiding his emotions, no, he looked expressionless and distant when he did that, he simply had an expression on his face that the blond had never seen before.

“No, no time, Hargid, I have to ask you something. Do you still remember the night that you won Norbert? What did the stranger you played cards with look like?” Harry’s words tumbled out like they were forcing their way out of his mouth, as if he might not be able to say them if he waited a second longer.

“Wow,” Draco muttered, trying not to grin in slight amusement. “You don’t even try to stall, do you?” Harry ignored him, simply looking at Hagrid expectantly instead.

“Dunno,” Hagrid said slowly, a confused glint in his dark eyes as he looked at the four of them, likely unsure of the reason behind Harry’s question. “He wouldn’ take his cloak off.”

Ron, who finally seemed to understand what Harry had been trying to say before, looked at the other three gryffindors as they all exchanged stunned glances. That was suspicious, sure it’d make sense for someone to want to keep their identity a secret if they were doing something illegal, but unless showing their face would reveal who they were, it didn’t make sense to hide it. Hagrid looked up at the three of them, completely clueless to the thoughts running through their minds and raised his eyebrows.

“It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head -that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.”

Draco stared at the Gamekeeper in shock as Harry sank down to the ground beside the bowl of singular peas. How could Hagrid think that wasn’t odd, or suspicious? Almost anyone would have thought so and would have not trusted the stranger. Why didn’t he? Then again, he had been at least somewhat drunk by then, but still, it seemed sort of ridiculous to not be suspicious.

“What did you talk about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?” Harry asked a short moment later, looking up at Hagrid with a nervous look on his face that he didn’t even attempt to hide. 

“Mighta come up," said Hagrid, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion as he attempted to recollect what had transpired that night, lips tugging down at the corners. "Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here.... He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon... an' then... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks.... Let's see... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted... but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home.... So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…”

Draco met Harry’s gaze for a moment, knowing they were both thinking the same thing. “And did he… did he seem interested in Fluffy?” The latter’s voice was forcefully calm, his eyes filled with concentration and concern. 

“Well - yeah - how many three headed dogs d’yeh meet, even aroun’ Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep -'' Hagrid suddenly broke off with a look of dawning horror on his face.

“I shouldn’ta told yeh that!” He blurted out, obviously having realized what he said. Still, it was more that he shouldn’t have told the stranger that piece of information. “Forget I said it! Hey - where’re yeh goin’?”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco ran off without a word, not even to each other. They all knew what Hagrid had said meant, and it was just proof that their fears weren’t for nothing. Someone besides Dumbledore and Hagrid knew how to get past Fluffy, and Draco was almost certain it wasn’t someone with good intentions. 

None of them stopped running until they were inside the castle, in the entrance hall which seemed oddly dark and cold in comparison to outside, and when they did it took them a moment to catch their breath. They all leaned against the wall, like they had so many months ago - had it really been only months ago? It felt as if it were years ago - after running from Filch, just before they had gotten themselves into this whole mystery with the Stone.

“We need to find Dumbledore,” Harry said then, letting out a slight heaving breath as he moved away from the wall to face them. “Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and under that cloak was either Snape or Voldemort - it must have been awfully easy once he got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore will believe us. Firenze might help us if Bane doesn’t stop him. Where even is Dumbledore’s office?” 

He looked around as if signs had suddenly appeared in the school to tell them where to go, which admittedly would have been nice, especially when they first arrived at school and didn’t have a clue where anything was. It certainly would be nice to have a map, or maybe even a spell that could tell them where to go, but of course, the teachers didn’t find it necessary for them to own such a thing, or learn such a spell, if it existed. They hadn’t even seen half of the school yet, and they most certainly had never been to the Headmaster’s office. How in Merlin’s name were they supposed to find it?

“Then we’ll just have to -” Harry was suddenly interrupted by a strict, familiar voice coming from just a little way down the corridor, causing all four of them to freeze in place.

“What are you four doing in here?” 

Professor McGonagall was walking towards them at a swift pace, a large stack of books piled in her arms, her dark green robes swirling around her ankles as she made her way towards the four of them. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Draco all looked at each other, overwhelmed by a brief sense of panic before Hermione faced their Head of House. 

“We want to speak with Professor Dumbledore.” Hermione’s voice was surprisingly calm and composed, not a hint of panic evident in anything about her in that moment. The three boys glanced at each other again, impressed once again by the one girl in their friend group’s ability to speak and lie, or rather avoid the truth, to teachers. 

“Speak with Professor Dumbledore?” Professor McGonagall repeated slowly, as if there was something odd about that request, which in her eyes there likely was. Four first year students, one of them the famous Boy Who Lived, and another the son of a feared pureblood family who were known past followers of Voldemort, wanted to speak with the headmaster of Hogwarts and all looked scared and likely very frazzled and disheveled. “Why?”

Harry visibly gulped beside Draco, and out of the corner of his eyes glanced at him, unsure of what to say. How were they supposed to explain the reason they needed to speak to the Headmaster after exams, on a Saturday no less, without telling her about the stone?

“It’s sort of a secret.” Draco shot his best friend a visibly shocked look. Seriously, that was what he chose to say? She was already suspicious enough of them, saying something like that would only make things worse. The blond resisted the urge to hit Harry upside the head and instead simply looked back at their transfiguration teacher who looked rather angry, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago,” she said coolly, glaring down at them from behind her glasses which were perched on the bridge of her nose. “He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and immediately flew off to London.”

“He  _ left _ ?” Harry demanded, eyes wide with terror and desperation, before any of the other young gryffindors could say anything. “ _ Just now? _ ” He glanced back at his friends, whose expressions all mirrored his. If Dumbledore wasn’t here… anything could happen.

“Professor Dumbledore is a very important wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time -” Professor McGonagall said, though this in no way reassured them, in fact it just made Draco even more worried. He highly doubted that today of all days, the day when practically everyone in Hogwarts, including the teachers, were more or less relaxed, the Ministry would ask for Dumbledore’s assistance on anything, it seemed more likely that it was a fake of some sort, that it was actually a ploy to get him out of the castle so whoever was working with Voldemort - most likely Severus Snape, but he refused to think about his identity, refused to think about the fact that his godfather was not who he thought he was - could get the stone without interference.

“But it’s important.” Harry’s persistent tone didn’t seem to worry Professor McGonagall, in fact she seemed rather unimpressed, as if she thought he were attempting to pull a prank on her, which seemed much more like something the Weasley twins would do than them. 

“Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?” Even her tone sounded unimpressed and she looked down at them with one skeptic eyebrow raised. 

“Look,” Harry said, his tone suddenly shifting in a subtle way that caused Draco to look over at him. He was going to tell her, Harry was going to tell her why they needed to speak with Dumbledore, no matter how bad that could end up for them. “Professor, it’s about the Philosopher’s Stone -”

Suddenly, as if she had been hit by a spell, every sign that their Head of house wasn’t interested or concerned in what they were saying vanished. The books she was holding slipped from her hands to the floor with a loud thud that echoed through the Entrance Hall and her eyes grew wide as saucers as she stared at them, mouth opened slightly. “How do you know -” She sputtered, at an obvious lack of ability to speak.

“Professor, I think - I  _ know _ \- that Sn..., that someone is going to try to steal the stone. I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore.”

While Harry spoke Professor McGonagall seemed to have regained some of her composure and was now looking at him with a mix of shock and suspicion. Her eyes were narrowed behind her glasses, her mouth pressed into a thin line, and her hands clenched into fists as if to stop them from doing something, though whether it was to prevent them from trembling or simply doing something else entirely was unclear.

“Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow,” she said finally, as if making up her mind. “I don’t know how you know about the Stone, but let me reassure you, nobody is capable of stealing it, it is heavily protected.”

Draco stepped forward suddenly, finding his voice. “But, Professor, we -” 

She did not allow him to finish his protest however, and instead fixed him with an angry and exasperated glare. “Malfoy, I know what I am talking about.” Professor McGonagall knelt down and began to gather her fallen books as she spoke, quickly straightening again once she had picked up all her books. “I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sun.” With that said she turned around and walked away stiffly, leaving the four first year gryffindors standing there in shock and suddenly even more concern.

“It’s happening tonight,” Harry said the second Professor McGonagall was out of sight, turning to face the other three. “Tonight Snape’s going to go through that trapdoor. He’s found out everything he needs to know and now he’s got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that letter. I bet the Ministry of Magic will have quite a shock when Dumbledore shows up.”

Hermione, who was now standing beside Draco, across from Ron and Harry, nodded slightly, though there was a slightly confused expression on her face. “But what can we -” She broke off abruptly, looking at something behind the other two with wide eyes.

Draco followed her gaze, somewhat hesitantly, and his own eyes widened.  _ Merde,  _ he thought when he saw the figure standing just a few feet behind Harry and Ron, having somehow snuck up on them without them realizing.  _ We’re screwed. _

“A wonderful afternoon” Severus Snape said softly in a slight drawl, looking down at them as Harry and Ron spun around to face the Potions Master.

All four of them stared at him, fear and guilt likely evident on all their faces. Draco gulped slightly and glanced at each of his friends in turn. 

“You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this.” An odd, forced smile stretched its way across his lips and for a moment Draco flashed back to his childhood when he saw his godfather smile in that same way when his father would mention something that the blond now realized was not good in any way. What did him smiling like that, at  _ them _ no less, mean?

“We were-” Harry broke off, a clueless look on his face as he failed to figure out what to say to get them out of trouble. 

“Better be a bit more careful,” Snape said as if he hadn’t said anything, continuing to look at them with that odd look on his face. “With the way you’re hanging around here, someone might think you’re up to something. And Gryffindor really can’t afford to lose more points, can it?”

Harry turned red and glanced back at Draco and Hermione, then over at Ron, the four of them swiftly coming to agreement. If they wanted to do or discuss anything without the chance of getting caught or in trouble with anyone, they had to go outside and act like they were enjoying the sun like everyone else as Professor McGonagall suggested. 

“I’m warning you, Potter, one more night wandering and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Have a good rest of the day.” Snape called after them just as they were about to run through the doors outside and they all looked at him to see the professor walking off in the direction of the teachers’ lounge.

For a short moment they all just stood there as he walked away, his robes swishing out behind him like a cape, then they all left the castle again. 

Just a few steps down from the doors leading back into the Entrance Hall, Harry turned around to face them again, a determined glint in his eyes, visible even with the sun reflecting off of his glasses lenses. “I know what we need to do,” He whispered to them; his voice also had a determined edge to it. “One of us has to keep an eye on Snape - wait in front of the teachers’ lounge and follow him when he leaves it. You’d best do it, Hermione.”

“Why me?” Said brunette asked, looking at Harry in confusion as she tilted her head to the side, an eyebrow raised. 

“Well, either you or Draco.” Ron said, as if the reason was obvious just by saying that. “You could both pretend to be waiting for one of the professors, like Flitwick for example, Hermione’s been freaking out about… what was it, question 14 b? _ ‘Oh, Professor Flitwick, I’m so worried, I think I got the wrong answer on-’ _ ” Before the redhead could finish speaking Hermione shoved him lightly, causing him to stumble down a step further than the rest of them, as she glared at him in a bit of amusement.

“Oh, stop it.” She snapped but Ron just grinned back, obviously amused and unfazed by being pushed down the steps slightly. “Now, am I going to keep watch, or Draco?” All three boys glanced at each other and simultaneously shrugged, not sure how to answer.

“I’d be fine with either option, really. Both of us going would be too suspicious, so that’s out of the question.” Draco said and the others seemed to agree, judging by their nods.

“Hermione’s a bit more open about her excessive studying than you are, so she’s probably the best bet if we want to be completely inconspicuous.” Harry said, pausing for the others to agree before continuing. “Okay, so, Draco, Ron, and I should probably wait at the entrance to the third floor corridor in case he shows up there. C’mon, the quicker we go, the better.”

* * *

Neither side of their plan ended up working however. Just as Harry, Ron, and Draco made it to the door that led to the third floor corridor where Fluffy was, they were intercepted once again by Professor McGonagall. She seemed to know exactly what they were doing there and sent them away again with the threat of taking fifty points from each of them if they came even close to that corridor again. Hermione, it seemed, had the same amount of luck as them, since just after they arrived in the Gryffindor common room she did as well with the news that she too had been caught by Snape and had to lie to get out of it.

“Well, that’s it then,” Harry said and collapsed into one of the armchairs near the fireplace. He was paler than Draco had ever seen him before and his eyes were wide and glittering with fear and a few tiny unshed tears. Ron, Hermione, and Draco all stared at him, not sure what to say.

“Tonight I’m going out and I’m going to try to get to the stone first,” He said suddenly and looked right up at them, determination now glittering in his green eyes.

“You’re mad!” Ron exclaimed after a second of shocked silence, his blue eyes wide.

“You can’t do that! After what McGonagall and Snape said? They’ll expel you!” Hermione practically yelled, staring at Harry with a similar expression to Ron’s on her face.

Draco didn’t say anything in response to Harry’s words, however. He knew his raven-haired best friend wouldn’t change his mind, he had made that much very clear a few months prior when they were going to see Hagrid about the stone. Harry would do anything to protect others, even risk his own life, and nothing anyone ever says or does will change that, it’s just how he was.

“SO WHAT?” Harry all but screamed, shooting to his feet again. “Don’t you understand? If Snape gets a hold of the stone, then Voldemort comes back! Haven’t you heard what it was like last time he tried to rise to power? There’ll be no more Hogwarts for us to get expelled from! He’ll flatten it, or turn it into a school for dark magic! Losing points won’t matter anymore, don’t you get that? Do you think he’ll leave your families alone if Gryffindor wins the House Cup? If I get caught before I get to the stone, it’s over, then I have to go back to the Dursleys and wait until Voldemort finds me there. That just means that I’ll die a little bit later than I would otherwise, because I’m never going to turn to the dark side! I’m going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you guys say will stop me. Voldemort killed my parents, remember?”

All three of them stared at him for a few seconds while he glared angrily at them, then, quietly, Hermione murmured: “You’re right, Harry.”

The anger faded slightly out of his eyes, though only slightly, his fists unclenching as he took a deep breath. “I’m going to take the invisibility cloak, lucky I got it back…” 

Ron stepped a bit closer to him then, a sudden determination shining in his blue eyes. “But will all four of us fit under it?”

Harry, who had been about to walk towards the boys’ dorm as if he was planning on leaving right then and there to go through the Trapdoor, despite it being only late morning, froze and stared at Ron in shock and confusion. “All… all four?” 

The redhead scoffed slightly, shaking his head as he stepped closer to Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, stop, do you really think we’re going to let you go alone?”

Draco then too stepped a bit closer, though he didn’t place his hand on his shoulder as Ron had. “Yeah, I know I said before that it was dangerous, which it bloody well is, and acted like I wouldn’t go with you if you went down there. Sure, we could all die, but together we have a much higher chance of surviving than you do on your own. We’re in this together, okay? We all knew what we signed up for when we became friends with the Boy Who Lived.” Draco grinned slightly and Harry looked at each of them in turn, shocked. 

“Of course we are,” Hermione said energetically, now joining the other two in a sort of crowd right around Harry. “How do you think you’re going to get to the stone without us? I’d better go look through my books, there might be something useful in there…” 

Draco resisted the urge to snort in amusement at her typical antics, always thinking she needed to study for everything, even an adventure, or whatever this could be called.

“But if we get caught, you’ll be expelled.” Harry retorted and all three of the other first year gryffindors in front of him sighed softly in unison, exasperated.

“I’d like to see them try,” Hermione said with a determined look overtaking her face. “Flitwick told me that I got a hundred and twelve percent on the Charms exam. With that grade they’re not going to expel me.”

* * *

All day the four of them wandered around the school and outside with no real plan of what they were doing. At some point they found themselves in the library, which was completely deserted of all students, and even though they had grown to sort of hate being in there they ended up spending most of the afternoon surrounded by shelves upon shelves of leather bound books, researching all sorts of wards and defensive charms and things that could potentially have been used to protect the stone. Still, when they left the library later none of them felt as if any of their research would help them much. 

All four of them didn’t speak a word during dinner, too afraid a teacher or another student would hear what they were talking about. They were silent all the way up to the common room as well, in fact none of them spoke until the common room was at least half empty. Hermione and Draco had both once again begun looking through any sorts of wards that might have been used, and how to break them or defend themselves from them and other things. Harry and Ron were mostly silent, Ron twirling a quill repeatedly in his hand and Harry just staring somewhat blankly into the empty fireplace, where no fire had blazed for over two months by that point.

“Better get the cloak,” Ron murmured as the Common Room finally, at about 11 at night, emptied out when a yawning Lee Jordan wandered up the stairs toward the boys’ dormitories. Draco looked up from the book he was reading through just as Harry, who it seemed had been waiting to be told to do so, stood up and practically ran after Lee towards their dorm room. 

Not a minute later Harry came running back downstairs with his invisibility cloak folded up in his arms, gripping a carved wooden flute that Draco vaguely recognized in his hand. He and Hermione both put their books down and stood up along with Ron, who placed the quill he was fiddling with down beside him on the armchair. “We’d best put the cloak on in here to make sure we all fit under it - if Filch sees one of our feet wandering around on its own -” Harry was abruptly cut off mid sentence by a voice behind them, however, and all four of them turned to face the speaker, looking like deer caught in headlights.

“What are you doing?” Neville demanded as he stood up from the armchair across the Common Room he had been sitting in, hidden from sight. He was holding Trevor in one hand, gripping him tightly as if scared he would attempt to escape as he had already done many times over the course of the school year.

“Nothing, Neville, nothing.” Harry spoke much too quickly for it to be believable and even though he hid the cloak and flute behind his back as fast as he could, it was impossible that Neville hadn’t at least glimpsed them. 

Their classmate stared at them for a few seconds, as if attempting to discover what exactly they were planning. Then his eyes widened in horror; he had realized what they were going to do. A stab of fear went through Draco then. What if he ran off and told a teacher? What if he decided to follow them if they managed to get past him? 

“You’re going out again.” He said and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco glanced briefly at each other before looking back at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice that for a moment they all looked even guiltier.

“No, no, no,” Hermione said quickly, obviously trying to convince him that wasn’t true but not doing the best job at it. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go up to bed, Neville?”

Draco resisted the strong urge he had to slap his hand into his forehead and groan. They were lucky they hadn’t been caught by a prefect, at least, because Hermione really was a terrible liar when it came to stuff like this. Sure, she may be able to bend the truth a bit with teachers, but anyone else? Not really.

“You can’t go out.” Neville sounded abnormally determined as he said it and he stepped a bit closer to them. “You’ll get caught again and Gryffindor will lose even more points.”

Harry too stepped forward towards Neville, shaking his head slightly. “You don’t understand, this is important.”

Neville shook his head vigorously and then quickly stepped in front of the portrait hole which was just to his left. “I won’t let you go! I - I’ll fight you!”

In that moment Ron decided to make himself a part of the conversation and walked quickly towards Neville, stopping just a few paces in front of him. “ _ Neville _ ,” He yelled, and Draco glanced around for a second to make sure there really was nobody else left in the Common Room or coming down the stairs to see what the commotion was all about. “Get out of the way and don’t be an idiot -”

“Don’t call me an idiot!” Neville snapped back, glaring at them, not moving an inch from his place in front of the only exit in the Common Room. “I don’t want you guys to break any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!” 

Draco had to admit, he had never seen Neville this bold, not even that time he stood up to the slytherins at the quidditch match. Then, he hadn’t done anything until they had come, until Ron had done something. Now, now he was standing up to  _ them _ , for no reason other than him wanting to keep their house out of trouble. Had he really changed so much in the past few months, year, or was this just a sudden burst of courage? Either way, Draco felt oddly proud of his housemate, despite the circumstances.

“Yeah, but not to  _ us _ ,” Ron said in exasperation, rolling his eyes slightly as he took another small step forward. “Neville, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Those words seemed to give the brunet more confidence and he let Trevor fall to the ground, for once not caring that his pet was running away and likely wouldn’t be found for a long while. He balled his hands to fists and raised them up in front of himself, face set into a determined expression. “Go on, try and hit me! I’m ready!”

Draco stared at him, unsure what to do as Harry turned to face him and Hermione. He didn’t want to hurt Neville, anything but, still, they needed to get past him.

“ _ Do something _ !” He hissed, though it was unclear whether Harry was addressing Draco or Hermione, or both. His eyes reflected what Draco felt and his gaze flicked between the two of them, desperation hidden in their depths. 

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds then stepped forward when Draco didn’t do anything, pulling her wand from her pocket and holding it in a slightly trembling hand at her side. “Neville,” she said, her voice much firmer than her grip and more confident than the look in her eyes. “I’m really, really sorry about this.” 

As the brunette raised her wand and pointed it directly at their housemate, their  _ friend _ , she spoke a spell softly, almost under her breath, but filled with confidence nonetheless. “Petrificus Totalus!” 

Neville’s arms snapped to his sides, his legs sprang together, and his mouth closed, lips pressed tightly together. For a second he simply stayed in place, then he began to sway, completely frozen as if time had stopped for him. He fell forwards, stiff as a board, and onto his face. 

For a moment Draco feared Neville had been hurt by the fall, but when Hermione stumbled towards the brunet on the floor to roll him onto his back there was no injury visible on him. His eyes, however, shimmered with horror and desperation as he looked back up at them, gaze flicking between the four standing above him. 

“What did you do to him?” Harry whispered, green eyes wide and a bit scared, as if he was freaked out by Hermione, which was understandable given what she had done to their dorm mate.

“That’s a full body-bind curse,” Draco explained without really thinking about it, having recognized both the spell and the effects it had. Hermione nodded but didn’t look away from Neville, guilt shining in her dark eyes along with a tiny unshed tear.

“Oh, Neville, I really am so sorry,” she murmured and then stood up, blinking the unshed tears out of her eyes and slipping her wand back into her pocket.

“We had to do it, Neville, no time to explain it now,” Harry said with a frown, guilt shining in his eyes as he unfolded the invisibility cloak. 

“You’ll understand it later, Neville.” Ron stepped over Neville, a frown pulling the corners of his lips downwards as he grabbed a corner of the cloak and flung it over himself, vanishing mostly from view. 

“Yeah, you might even thank us. Probably not, but… at least you hopefully won’t hate us. I’m sorry, Neville.” Draco stared down at his dormmate for a moment, frowning, and then got under the cloak as well, allowing himself to disappear from everyone but those under the cloak’s sight.

The four of them, walking rather close to each other due to the invisibility cloak, pushed the Fat Lady’s portrait out and stepped through the portrait hole, stumbling into the corridor beyond it and almost tripping over the bottom of the cloak. 

“Merlin, walking under this thing is hard with so many of us. I wish I knew how to cast an invisibility charm or something, then we wouldn’t have to do this.” Draco muttered under his breath and Hermione glanced over at him, looking as if she agreed with him.

“Yeah, but that’s an OWL level spell, not first year.” She whispered back and though Draco wanted to ask her how she could possibly know that, he kept his mouth shut. Everything they said, each of their footsteps, and rustles of their robes seemed to echo off the stone walls of the corridor, bouncing back at them ten times their original volume. The shadows on the ground and walls were stretched and eerie, like they weren’t really real, and almost every time they turned a corner they froze, thinking Filch or someone else was standing in front of them when it was really just a statue.

They all froze completely once when they reached the first set of stairs they had to descend, however. Mrs. Norris was sitting on the second to last stair, tail flicking back and forth along the carpet as if she were impatiently waiting for a student to wander by so she could get them in trouble.  _ Great, just great. _

For a moment they all stood there, looking down at the cat apprehensively, scared she might be able to see them. Slowly they all began to walk down the stairs, pausing a few steps in front of Mrs. Norris once again, hoping she wouldn’t hear them. “Oh, let’s kick her, just this once,” Ron whispered so quietly that it was almost impossible to hear and Harry sent him a small glare before shaking his head. The redhead pouted slightly but sighed and didn’t argue, obviously knowing there was no point in it. 

The four of them all carefully inched to the side before descending the last few steps, trying to stay as far away from the cat as possible. Mrs. Norris’s bright yellow eyes swivelled towards them and they froze for a second, but began walking again when she didn’t move any more than that and flicking her tail back and forth again.

They didn’t run into anyone else until they reached the staircase leading down to the third floor. Once again they all froze in place, this time in even more fear than before. Peeves was hopping around a few inches in the air, pulling the carpet that went down the middle of the staircase up at the corners and loosening it in a way that would make a lot of people trip the next day when they went up or down it. 

“Who’s there?” He asked suddenly, stopping what he was doing as they hesitantly went down a few steps. His pitch black eyes narrowed and glinted in the moonlight shining in through one of the windows in the corridor behind them. “I know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Who are you, pesky students or ghosts?” He floated a bit closer to them and Draco unconsciously held his breath, suddenly feeling rather scared of him even sensing they were there.

“Should call for Filch, yes, I should when something invisible is sneaking around here.” 

Harry’s eyes suddenly brightened in the way they always did when he got an idea and a small smirk formed on his face. “Peeves,” he said in a raspy whisper that was surprisingly convincing. “The Bloody Baron has his reasons for being invisible.”

Peeves almost fell out of the air at that, terror evident all over his face. He fell down a few feet and backed up, managing to keep himself from actually hitting the ground. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir.” The poltergeist gasped out, still terrified but trying to hide it. “My mistake, completely my mistake - I didn’t see you - of course not, you’re invisible - Forgive old Peevsie this little joke, Sir.”

Harry paused a moment before speaking again in the same raspy whisper. “I have business here, Peeves. Stay away from here tonight.”

Peeves nodded frantically and floated a bit higher. “I will, Sir, I certainly will do that.” He nodded again as he spoke, floating even further away. “Hope your business goes well, Mr. Baron, I won’t bother you.” With that he flew off, disappearing from sight not even a second later.

“ _ Genius, _ Harry!” Ron whispered with a grin, blue eyes wide in amazement.

Draco repressed the urge to laugh at the fact that that actually worked. Despite his efforts not to, however, a snort of amusement escaped him and he covered his mouth with his hand, just in case Peeves was still close enough to hear them. He doubted the Bloody Baron laughed much given his reputation, so if the Poltergeist heard a giggle it might blow their cover.

For a moment they all just stood there, trying not to laugh at what just happened. Their laughter didn’t last long however, because they remembered why they were outside of Gryffindor Tower in the middle of the night in the first place. The four of them all finished descending the stairs and walking through the corridor towards the door that led into the corridor that Fluffy resided in, where they all stopped. The door was open a crack, proof that they had not only been right, but were also a bit late, too late maybe.

“That’s reassuring,” Harry muttered under his breath. “Snape’s already past Fluffy.”

For a moment they were all silent. Each of them knew what that could mean, they could have taken too long to get there, Snape could already have gotten past the other protections and gotten hold of the Philosopher’s Stone.

“If you want to go back now, I won’t hold it against you,” Harry said as he turned to face them and Draco looked at him in shock. “You can take the cloak, I don’t need it anymore.” He didn’t look at any of them as he said that, green eyes trained on the stone floor as if he really did expect them to say they would abandon him now.

“Don’t be stupid,” Ron said with determination in his gaze.

“We’re coming with you,” Hermione added, equally as determined and Harry glanced between them, obviously still nervous.

“I told you, we’re in this together, Harry. No matter what.” Draco said and said boy looked up at him and his other two best friends in shock, staring at them for a few seconds before turning around pushing the door open.

The hinges creaked as the door swung completely open, the sound deafening in the silence of the middle of the night. An even louder, deep growl echoed from within the corridor beyond and the four young gryffindors glanced at each other briefly, nervous, before they all in sync took a step into the corridor they were not supposed to enter “unless they wanted to die a most painful death”, as Professor Dumbledore kindly put it on their first night at Hogwarts. 

Fluffy, the three headed dog that was not named logically at all for an animal that towered over an average human like a building and was being used as a guard dog for one of the most important magical items in existence, was facing the four of them, nose quivering as if it were sniffing the air. The only reason Draco didn’t feel like running in that moment was the fact the dog was still half asleep and that they knew how to make it fall asleep instantly, and the fact that he wouldn’t leave his friends, not now, certainly made him more confident.

“What’s lying there between his feet?” Hermione whispered to the three of them then, brown eyes narrowed as she tried to make out the details of the golden thing glinting in the moonlight at the feet of the three-headed dog. 

“Looks like a harp,” Ron said, eyes also narrowed but seemingly not having quite as much trouble seeing in the dark as Hermione. “Snape must have left it there.”

Harry let out a small sigh and pulled the wooden flute out of his pocket, holding it awkwardly in his hands like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “He probably wakes up as soon as you stop playing,” he murmured and raised the flute towards his lips. “Well, here goes…”

Just before the raven-haired boy could begin to even attempt to play the instrument, Draco spoke. “Do you even know how to play?” He hissed and Harry glared over at him, lowering the flute again. Just by the way he glared at the blond made it obvious that he couldn’t, but just didn’t want to admit it.

“Do you?” Harry retorted with a raised eyebrow. For a second Draco didn’t respond at all, then he sighed softly and looked down briefly.

“No…” He admitted quietly and Harry looked for a moment as if he were trying not to grin before he raised the flute to his lips again, beginning to play a very out of tune melody that made the part of Draco that had taken piano lessons his entire childhood cringe away in horror. How could Fluffy fall asleep to that? It was horrible!

Still, the dog didn’t seem to care much, because his eyes immediately began to droop shut. Harry didn’t stop playing for even a single second, which was both impressive and sort of odd, and gradually Fluffy stopped growling. He swayed slightly in place for a few moments, eyes fluttering shut just before he collapsed to his knees and then to the floor with a loud thud. Soft snores replaced the growls and had Fluffy been a tenth of his size, he might have looked sort of adorable.

“Keep playing,” Ron said, as if Harry wasn’t aware that he should do so, and the four of them slipped the cloak off themselves, letting it fall to the floor at their feet. They all, as quietly as possible, krept towards the huge three-headed dog’s paws which were resting on top of a wooden trapdoor. The out of tune music gave the whole situation an eerie, dreamlike feel and Draco subconsciously wondered if he could fly if he just focused hard enough. Everything felt a bit like a dream, like he would wake up any moment to find himself back in the gryffindor dorms, or maybe in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor the day before school started, but he knew it wasn’t any such thing. This was real, somehow.

Fluffy’s hot, gross smelling breath blew over them and Draco shuddered slightly, wanting to step away but knowing the only way they would get through the trapdoor was, well, opening it and going through it. 

“I think we could swing the door open,” Ron said thoughtfully as he looked over the leg of the dog, frowning slightly. “Do you want to go first, Hermione?” He phrased it like he was simply asking it out of courtesy or politeness, but it was obvious it was more because he didn’t want to go first himself.

“No, I do not!” Hermione snapped, glaring over at him, a bit of fear glinting in her eyes. Draco assumed they all harbored at least some of that fear, none of them really knew what they were about to, quite literally, drop themselves into, afterall.

“All right.” Ron gulped and hesitated for a second before carefully climbing over Fluffy’s leg, cringing every time the dog so much as shifted an inch and freezing for a good three seconds. He slid off the other side of the leg and knelt down over the square door, grabbing hold of the brass ring attached to the wood and yanking it upwards. A small yelp escaped him as it flew open with ease, not even creaking, and almost left him sprawled on the floor from the excess energy he had put into pulling the trapdoor open. 

“What do you see?” Hermione called over to him and he looked up at her for a moment before leaning over the edge to look down at what lay beyond the square in the ground. 

“Nothing - all black - we can’t climb down, so all we can do is jump.” Draco was about to offer to jump first, simply to get it over with, when he saw Harry motion towards himself with his left hand, still attempting to play the flute.  _ I’ll do it _ , the motion seemed to say and a frown tugged at the blond’s lips. If the bottom of the hole was just solid stone, Harry would get hurt, and Draco really would rather he - who really had no importance to what was happening - be the one to get hurt than him.

“You want to go first? Are you sure?” Ron seemed just as concerned as Draco, and his blue eyes shone with it. “I don’t know how deep the hole is. Give Draco or Hermione the flute so that he doesn’t wake up.” 

Harry, who it seemed was still a bit annoyed about Draco’s comment earlier about his lack of skill in playing the instrument, handed the flute over to Hermione, who seemed to do a better job at making an actual melody than him as she raised the wooden instrument to her lips, sending the three-headed dog that had already begun to wake up in the few seconds it took Harry to hand her the flute back to sleep. 

Harry followed Ron over Fluffy’s leg, much more confident than the redhead and landed on the floor beside him. He too looked over the edge of the doorway and frowned slightly, obviously seeing the same thing as Ron. After taking a deep breath, he slowly lowered himself down into the hole until he was only hanging there by his fingertips. “If something happens to me, don’t follow. Go straight to the Owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, okay?” 

Ron nodded slightly, eyes still blazing with concern, and spoke in a trembling voice, “Okay.”

Draco assumed Harry nodded as well, though he couldn’t see him from where he was standing. “We’ll see each other in a sec, hopefully…”

After that there was a moment of silence, meaning Harry had likely let go of his hold on the ground, then - “It’s okay!” Harry's voice called up to them, distant as if he were far away from them, but still audible. “I landed on something soft, you can jump!”

Ron glanced over at Draco and Hermione and then jumped as well, not even bothering to lower himself down a bit first. He asked Harry something when he landed and he replied, but since they weren’t trying to address the two still up in the corridor it was hard to discern what they were saying.

Draco glanced over at Hermione and when she nodded in response to his silent question, he himself climbed over Fluffy’s leg. He hesitated for a second before jumping as well, unsure whether he would land on one of his friends or not. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, the blond stepped into the hole and felt gravity take hold of him, pulling him straight down. The air whooshed around him, messing up his hair that was already mostly out of its gel and stinging his eyes slightly. He landed on something not exactly soft as Harry had said, but not hard either, a few seconds later and a small gasp escaped him.

“Where in Merlin’s name are we?” Draco whispered, tilting his head back to look up at where he had jumped from. The trapdoor was only a small dot of pale silver moonlight in the distance, hundreds, if not thousands, of feet above him. 

The distant music stopped suddenly and a loud growl filled the silence, but before Fluffy could do anything more Hermione was already falling. She landed a few feet from Draco, beside Harry, and looked around them with a slightly confused expression. “We must be miles under the school,” she murmured offhandedly.

“Lucky this weird plant thing is here,” Ron said and Hermione’s head snapped towards him, her eyes widening in horror. 

“ _ Lucky? _ ” She cried, jumping up, and scampered to the nearest wall in an attempt to escape the vines that had already begun to wrap around her. “Look at you!”

Somehow none of them had realized that the second they landed thick vines had begun wrapping themselves around them like snakes. Harry, Ron, and Draco were already trapped, held down by the vines as if they were chained down. 

Draco stared down at the vines slowly wrapping themselves around him, unable to move as panic seized him. He knew what they landed on now - Devil’s Snare. Of course the Philosopher’s Stone wouldn’t have such easy access, not that a giant three-headed dog was exactly easy to get past. Still, Snape had gotten past it, so hopefully they could too. 

“Stay still!” Hermione yelled then and Draco, who was already frozen, looked over at her for a second before looking at Harry and Ron. Both of them were struggling with the vines, desperately trying to pull themselves free from their hold, which only tightened the more they moved around. “I know what that is - it’s Devil’s Snare!”

Draco opened his mouth to say that he already knew that, but before he could, Ron yelled, very clearly exasperated, “Oh, good, knowing what’s killing me helps me so much!” He leaned back, trying to get away from the vine trying to wrap itself around his neck, but not fully succeeding.

“Stay still while I try to figure out what you’re supposed to do to get rid of it!” Hermione snapped at him and the redhead glared over at her, blue eyes blazing like the flames she had made back in winter. A distant memory from Herbology class suddenly tugged at Draco’s mind and his eyes widened. 

“Fire!” He yelled, gasping as the vines tightened around his chest, making it difficult to inhale. “It doesn’t like fire!”

Hermione looked over at Draco in shock for a moment and then she nodded, looking around as if she was looking for something. “Of course, it loves the dark and the damp, so… of course, but… how am I supposed to make a fire? There’s no wood!” She cried, eyes wide with panic and had Draco not been trapped in ropes of vines that were currently trying to suffocate him, he would have facepalmed.

“HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” Ron roared, surprisingly loudly for someone who was also being strangled by Devil’s Snare. “ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?”

Despite the situation, Draco couldn’t help but feel a laugh escape his mouth. Perhaps he was suddenly a bit hysterical, perhaps the vine that had wrapped itself around his chest had squeezed tight enough that he had grown a bit loopy from lack of air, but either way, the redhead’s scream sounded amusing to him.

“Oh, right!” Hermione said and frantically pulled her wand from her pocket, flicking it swiftly as she murmured the spell she had said dozens of times during the colder months of the year. The same blue flames that she had used to set Snape’s robes on fire all the way back during the first quidditch match of year, which felt like it was years ago but was really only a few months ago, flew from the tip of her wand and hit the vines. Just a few seconds later the Devil's Snare began to loosen its hold around them and slithered away. Shaking, they pulled the remaining vines off of themselves and stood up. 

“Lucky that you two pay attention in Herbology,” Harry said as he scrambled over to the wall and pressed himself against it beside Hermione, the other two boys following him. He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand and scowled at it in disgust when he wiped his hands on his robes to dry them off. 

“Yeah, “ Ron gasped and ran a hand through his red hair, making it stick up in almost every direction imaginable. “Lucky Draco doesn’t lose his head in a crisis - ‘there’s no wood’,  _ honestly _ !” 

Harry nodded and then pointed over at a single doorway, leading into a dark corridor. “That way,” he said and walked towards it without waiting for the others to say anything in response. 

The four of them wandered down the corridor in silence, the only sound audible being their own footsteps, which echoed off the walls back at them, and the soft sound of dripping water, which was rolling down the stone walls and dripping from the ceiling. The corridor sloped downwards and Draco shuddered, the place reminding him of the cellar in Malfoy Manor. He had only been down there once, when he was very young, and he couldn’t remember why he had gone down there in the first place now. The whole memory was sort of blurred and distorted, like a lot of his memories from when he was a young child, though he assumed that was simply due to his memory not being great back then. Most didn’t remember stuff that far back, right?

“Do you hear something?” He was pulled out of his thoughts by Ron, who had stopped walking and was frowning ever so slightly. The other three stopped as well and Draco closed his eyes, trying to listen to his surroundings better. Sure enough, a few seconds later the blond heard a quiet rustling and clicking that was coming from somewhere down the corridor, not far away from them. 

“Do you think it’s a ghost?” Harry asked softly, but Draco shook his head.

“I don’t think so, it sounds like wings to me.” Hermione nodded in agreement to his words, lips tugging down in a sort of half frown, half nervous smile. 

“There’s light ahead and I can see something moving,” she said and for a moment they all stayed where they were, scared to go to the next thing that was meant to keep them away from the stone. Then they all continued walking again and slowly approached the end of the corridor, where it widened out into a bright room with a high ceiling far above them. Dozens of tiny, jewel-bright birds fluttered around above them, the origin of the sounds they had heard. On the far end of the room stood a thick, heavy wooden door that likely led to the next task or puzzle they had to figure out.

“Do you think they’ll attack us if we go through?” Ron asked as he tilted his head back to look up at the birds, a frown marring his face.

“Probably,” Harry said, following the redhead’s gaze for a moment before looking over at the door. “They don’t really look all too dangerous, but if they all go at us at once, well… we don’t really have any other choice. I’m running over.”

He took a deep breath and then ran across the room, covering his face with his arms to shield it. Draco looked nervously up at the birds, but none of them even turned towards Harry. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he glanced between the birds and Harry. If they weren’t supposed to attack the person trying to get to the other side of the door, then why were they there?

After a moment’s hesitation Hermione, Ron, and Draco followed the Boy Who Lived to the other side of the room, running as well just in case the birds did end up attacking them. The door was locked, its handle slightly rusted, and it didn’t even budge when each in turn they tried to cast Alohomora on it and then attempted it together. 

“What now?” Ron asked, glaring down at the door as he kicked it, like that would do anything. He grimaced in pain then and hissed “ _ Bloody hell! _ ”

“Those birds… they can’t just be there for show,” Hermione said, voicing Draco’s previous thoughts. Harry, Hermione, and Draco all looked up at the birds while Ron continued to hop around a bit on one foot, pain and annoyance on his face. The birds flew in circles around each other like they were dancing, the light from above glinting off of them - wait,  _ glinting _ ?

“Those aren’t birds!” Harry exclaimed suddenly, his eyes widening slightly. “Those are keys! Winged keys, look really closely. That must mean... “ He squinted around the outside of the room, looking for something, though what it was he was looking for, Draco didn’t really know. “...yeah, look! Brooms! We need to catch the key for the door!”

Draco looked over at Harry in shock, he expected them to be able to figure out which one it was? “But there are  _ hundreds _ of them!” He hissed and Harry shrugged slightly, the look on his face showing that he didn’t have a clue how to figure it out either. 

“We’re looking for a big, old fashioned key - probably silver, like the lock.” Ron suddenly said and Draco spun to face him. He was leaning down slightly, his foot forgotten, and was inspecting the doorknob and lock, head tilted to the side in concentration. Draco found himself giving the redhead an impressed look, he never would have been able to figure that out, no matter how long he stared at the door. His family rarely used keys, they thought they were a waste of time, and usually just used spells that only let certain people open doors.

“Well, if you’re right, then that certainly narrows things down a bit for us,” Draco said and then went to grab a broom, the others following. The second he was in the air, the familiar feeling of freedom he always got when in the air swept over him and he had to force himself not to just mess around, now was not the time. They had to find that key and catch it so they could stop Snape before it was too late - Merlin, that was not something Draco had thought he would ever think.

The flying keys immediately began flying around, trying to escape the four of them as they tried to grab at them. Many of them would only get away just in time and would in the process scratch up their arms or hands. For a while they just sort of flew around in the cloud of winged keys, trying to spot the one they were looking for, but even though Draco was a rather good seeker, he couldn’t spot it. He assumed either Harry or Ron would end up spotting the key they needed, but still continued to look for it himself. 

“That one!” Harry yelled a few minutes later, proving Draco’s previous thoughts correct. “The big one - there - no, there - with bright blue wings - all messed up on one side.” He pointed at a key that fit Ron’s description perfectly and had a slightly bent wing as if it had already been grabbed roughly by someone.

Ron raced towards the key and when it quickly moved out of the way, faster than Draco would have expected due to its injured wing, he ran into the ceiling, almost falling off his broom but managing to keep his grip on the broom well enough to stay up. 

“Are you okay?” Draco called and the redhead nodded, though he scowled down at his broom and rubbed his head slightly with his hand like it hurt. 

“Perfectly fine, thanks!” He called back and then slowly flew down a bit, away from the ceiling, which he also glared at like it was at fault for him crashing into it. 

“We have to circle it!” Harry yelled, somewhat ignoring the fact that Ron had almost fallen down to the ground far below. “Ron, you go from the top; Hermione, you come from under in case it flies down; and Draco, you go to the side that isn’t broken, it’s more likely to fly that way than the other way. I’ll try and catch it. Okay, NOW!” 

With that they all flew at the key. Hermione shot up towards it like a cork, Ron flew down in a dive. The key managed to avoid both of them, but thereby didn’t notice Harry and Draco and was backed up against the wall, where Harry pressed it against the stone and then grabbed hold of it. The key’s wings crunched loudly as he did so and Draco winced slightly but cheered with the others anyway. 

They all flew back down to the ground, Draco and Harry sliding off their brooms with ease, while Hermione and Ron struggled a bit more, almost falling down. Harry walked swiftly across the room and took a deep breath before shoving the key into the lock. It gave a loud click when he turned it and Harry let go of the key, which immediately flew off again, both wings now crinkled and bent. Draco watched as it flew up to the cloud of other keys and disappeared from sight, blending in with the others. He really hoped the door would just stay unlocked after this, but he wasn’t sure. If Snape had already come through, and the door was still locked, what did that mean? Could they not get back out?

“Ready?” Harry asked them, glancing back at the other three with his hand on the doorknob, prepared to turn it. They nodded and he took a deep breath before pushing open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter killed me, this took forever. Okay, not forever, I posted the last chapter like two weeks ago, and I started writing this when I got back Wednesday before last (well, i started writing it more on Thursday, but whatever) and so... yeah, it felt like it took forever though. Sometimes writing is just pain, lol.


	19. A Giant Chess Game and a Potions Riddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5,000 hits?! What? Thank you guys so much for reading this and commenting and leaving kudos! I love reading the comments you all leave, even if it's constructive critisism, which really helps me, so thank you!
> 
> Okay, fair warning here, this chapter is not my best, lol. It feels sort of choppy to me, but I can't really fix it this time, so... I hope it's at least fine.

For a moment everything behind the door was pitch black, then, when they stepped inside, suddenly, as if something had flicked their wand and murmured a spell, the room in front of them lit up with firelight. Tall marble pillars with fires blazing on the tops lined the walls, the flickering orange and gold flames lighting up the room, which for a moment seemed like a museum of some sort due to the many stone figures scattered across the floor. Then, as Draco inspected the room more thoroughly he realized that the floor was checkered black and white and that directly in front of them stood a bunch of giant black chess pieces, and across the room stood a set of giant white chess pieces, except every piece was faceless. The place where their eyes and noses and mouths were supposed to be were simply smooth pieces of marble, like someone had simply cut all facial features off of them. It was eerie and unsettling, and Draco involuntarily shuddered.

“Now what do we do?” Harry whispered as if speaking louder than that would cause the pieces to attack them or something.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Ron said without a trace of the raven-haired boy’s nervousness, a tiny smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “We’re going to have to play our way across the room.” It really was obvious, that seemed to be the only logical assumption considering the only exit beside the one behind them was across the room, behind the white chess pieces.

“How?” Hermione looked nervous, even more nervous than she had been before their final exams, and normally that would freak Draco out, but for once it didn’t. Maybe it was because he knew her nerves most likely came from her not being particularly good at chess, or maybe it was just because the thought of playing a chess game wasn’t that terrifying to him. In fact, the idea of playing a game of chess in the middle of this, like a break from the stress, seemed oddly inviting and nice. Ron’s smirk suddenly made sense, he too felt like this was more a break than a task they had to complete and was therefore more laid back about it.

“I think,” Ron said, still smirking slightly. “That we have to become chessmen.” He walked over to the nearest chessman, a tall knight carved from black marble, and hesitantly reached up to touch the horse’s flank with his fingertips. For a second nothing happened, then the statue came to life and the knight turned its head towards Ron, waiting for him to speak, or something of the sort.

“Do we … um… have to join you to get across?” The knight nodded in response to the redhead’s shaky question and Ron turned to face them again; his smirk was gone and was replaced by a slightly nervous frown. 

“Let me think…” He frowned and looked around at the chessmen lined up behind him, scanning each of them as if to judge their importance. His eyebrows were scrunched up in the way they always were when he concentrated on something, eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a tight line. “I think we have to take the places of four of the black ones…” 

Harry, Hermione, and Draco watched silently as he continued to observe the different pieces, pacing back and forth and mumbling things unintelligible to anyone but him. Though the latter wanted to help as well, he got the feeling that it would go quicker and better if he just let Ron figure it out, the redhead was admittedly better at chess than him and if in this situation the better chess player had a higher chance at getting them out of there alive, then Draco would have to swallow his pride for a little while.

“Okay, don’t be offended, but Harry and Hermione, neither of you are very good at chess -” Ron started to say a few moments later, though Harry cut him off, speaking quickly as if he needed to get the words out as fast as possible.

“We’re not offended. Just, tell us what we need to do.” The redhead hesitated for a brief second, glancing around at all of the huge, towering marble chess pieces surrounding them like gravemarkers in an old cemetary. The whole thing might be a bit less threatening and frightening if the pieces were just a bit smaller, like a foot shorter than them, or at least their size, but maybe that was the point, the more dangerous the game seemed, the harder it would be to focus properly on it, making it more difficult to win.

“Good. Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you play for that castle over there next to him.” Both of them nodded and Ron smiled tightly, as if nervous, which he likely was considering they had basically made him in charge of making sure they beat this. Draco felt guilt stab at him and he grimaced slightly, about to offer to help a bit if he needed it, when Ron continued, facing him. “Draco, you’re a lot better at this than them, so you have to help a bit, make sure I don’t mess up.”

The blond nodded in response to that, and then, oddly nervous suddenly asked, “Which piece do I play?”

For a second Ron didn’t answer, his blue eyes glinting in concentration again as he thought, eyebrows scrunched together slightly like they had been a few moments prior. “Be the second castle.” His voice had a slight questioning edge to it, as if he was making sure that Draco agreed.

“Got it,” he said and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner at his best friend. The more sure of himself Ron was, the better and quicker they would finish this, and the higher the chance was of them all making it, plus, him being a castle was a good idea, they were more difficult to kill than a bishop and any other pieces were too important or were generally the first ones to go.

“What about you?” Hermione asked Ron and the smirk from before returned, still rather small, but there.

“I’ll be a knight.” His blue eyes glittered in excitement that suddenly seemed very out of place. Somehow the chessmen must have heard them, or at least understood what they were planning, because when Ron finished saying that the knight next to them jumped off the board, as did both castles and the closest bishop. For a moment the four of them stared at the empty squares, then they all went over to their respective spots.

“In chess white always goes first,” Ron said and, sure enough, a few seconds later one of the white pawns moved forward two squares. “Yeah… look…”

The game sort of began to feel like one of their everyday chess matches that they had with each other, with pieces from both sides sliding across the board, white pieces being dragged off the board. After a while however it became evident how dangerous the game really was, when the second black knight, the one Ron was not on but could’ve been, was knocked off the board by the white queen and didn’t get back up, just laid there, motionless, facedown. 

“I had to do that,” Ron said in a trembling voice, staring down at the knight with wide eyes. “Now you can get that bishop, Hermione, go ahead.” 

She hesitated a moment before doing so, her gaze lingering on the other knight. Draco couldn’t help but follow her gaze and a sudden image of Ron lying there in the same position, facefirst on the stone floor with crimson blood matted in his fire-red hair and one arm trapped under his body flashed through his mind. A shudder ran through the blond at that and he had to rip his eyes away from the statue. He couldn’t think about that, he couldn’t. They would win this and all get past the chess game, they would all be fine.

Still, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself of that was true, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. The feeling only got worse when a little while later something almost did go wrong. Ron, it seemed, hadn’t noticed the danger his best friend was in, and was about to move a different piece instead.

“Ron!” Draco yelled, voice an octave higher than usual with panic. “The knight!”

The redhead froze, mouth open to tell a chess piece what to do, eyes still fixed on a white bishop that he likely had planned to destroy with his own second bishop. “What?” He said instead, looking over at the blond in confusion. Draco gestured wildly towards the white knight that was one move away from knocking Harry off the board. Ron’s blue eyes widened in a mix of horror and concern, immediately forgetting about whatever play he had planned.

“Harry, move one square diagonally to the right.” He said, ever so slightly higher than before, though forcefully not panicked. Harry did as his best friend said, looking confused briefly before doing so, as if he hadn’t noticed he was just almost killed, or at least injured, by a giant chess piece.

“Pay a bit more attention, Ron.” Draco said and the redhead nodded as a white castle moved across the board, face pale. All of his previous calm and composure melted away, replaced by slight fear and determination, the gravity of the situation finally occurring to him. This wasn’t one of their casual everyday chess matches, this was life or death.

“Got it.” Ron said quietly, swallowing thickly before directing one of their pieces towards the castle that had just moved, knocking it off the board.

The same thing almost happened again a few minutes later, but Ron caught it himself that time, sending a piece to destroy the one trying to knock Hermione off the board. Slowly the amount of pieces on the board began to disappear, being piled at the side of the board like the ruins of an old building.

“We’ve almost got it…” Ron murmured suddenly and Draco looked over at him in surprise before trying to discover how he planned to finish this soon enough to say that. “Let me think… let me think…” 

The white queen turned her blank face towards him and his face hardened into a determined expression, coming to a decision.

“Yes…” He mumbled to himself, blue eyes blazing. “It’s the only chance we’ve got… I’ve got to be taken.”

“NO!” Harry, Hermione, and Draco all yelled at once. There was no way he could do that, no way. There had to be some way they could all get out of this unharmed. A voice somewhere in the back of his mind told him Ron was right, that was the only way they could win this, but he didn’t want to listen to it, didn’t want to accept what it was saying.

“That’s chess!” Ron snapped though his voice wavered slightly as if he realized what he was about to do. “Sometimes you have sacrifice pieces! I’ll jump and she’ll hit me, then you can checkmate the king, Harry!”

“But -” He tried to protest, green eyes wide in fear.

“Do you want to stop Snape, or not?”

“Ron -” Hermione tried to convince him as well, but he shook his head vigorously.

“Listen, if you don’t hurry up then he’ll get the stone and be gone!” Their protests died on their lips and they all stopped trying to get him to not go through with his plan. He was dead set on it, and they couldn’t convince him otherwise, just like there was no way to convince Harry not to come down there through the trapdoor.

“Ready?” Ron called, face pale but determined, eyes blazing. “Here I go - now, don’t hang around after you’ve won.” With that said he jumped forward and, as he said would happen, the queen came after him, hitting him on the head with her marble arm. He crumpled to the ground, and lay there motionless on his side. A scream echoed through the room and it took Draco a moment to realize it had come from him. Harry and Hermione were both pale, the latter of the two looking as if she were forcing herself not to run over to the redhead and make sure he was okay. Draco watched, trembling slightly, as the queen dragged Ron off the board and then returned to her square, leaving the redhead slumped against the other black bishop.

After a moment of hesitation, Harry went three steps to the left, his trembling visible to Draco even from halfway across the board. The white king stared at Harry, or at least looked at him with his blank face, and then grabbed his crown off his head, throwing it down to the ground, where it cracked.

They had won. 

The white pieces moved to the side, freeing the way to the door and for a moment they all stood where they were, scared to move. Then the three still conscious members of the quartet moved towards the door, only to freeze just before walking through it. 

“What if he-?” Hermione started to ask, but broke off, glancing back at the redhead. 

“I’m going to check on him,” Draco mumbled instead of answering her question, trying his best to keep his voice from shaking. He knew they had to go on, knew Ron had told them not to wait, but he needed to make sure he was at least still alive. “To make sure he’s okay.”

The blond turned around and ran across the black and white tiled floor towards his best friend, whose red hair stood out like flames amongst the dark marble of the other chess pieces. He knelt down next to him and frowned in concern when he saw the blood on the side of his head, matted in his hair like he had imagined earlier. Draco reached a trembling hand towards him, about to shake him to see if he’d wake up, when Harry spoke from behind him.

“He’ll be alright.” There was a slight tremble in his voice as he said it, but when Draco looked over at him he had a determined glint in his green eyes. For a second he stayed where he was, not wanting to leave Ron behind like this, but then he sighed and stood up. “What do you reckon’s next?” 

The blond shrugged slightly as they left the chess room and quickly made their way down the next corridor which was almost pitch black in comparison to the firelit room they had just exited. “We’ve had Sprout’s, hers was the Devil’s Snare, Flitwick must have charmed the keys, Professor McGonagall brought the chessmen to life, all we have left now are Quirrell’s and Snape’s.” Hermione counted off the different teachers they knew had put tasks up.

“What about Dumbledore? Didn’t he do something too?” Draco asked and Hermione glanced over at him as if she hadn’t thought of that.

“I assume he put wards up directly around the stone so that it’s almost impossible to get a hold of.” She shrugged slightly, not sure if she was correct, but that seemed like a decent explanation to Draco.

A few seconds later they arrived at the next door and once again they all hesitated for a moment in front of it. What dangerous thing could lay beyond that door? 

“All right?” Harry whispered to the two of them, sounding just as unsure as Draco felt. 

“Just do it.” Hermione fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sleeve, glaring at Harry as if it would make him go faster. He took a deep breath and then pushed the door open.

A disgusting, somewhat familiar smell drifted out of the room and they all gagged, pulling the collars of their uniforms up over their mouths and noses. Tears sprang into Draco’s eyes at the sheer intensity of the smell, as if something had died a couple weeks prior and was just left there to rot, filling the stone chamber with the smell of its decomposing flesh. This was not the case here, however, because when he blinked to get the tears out of his eyes he saw a troll, not unlike the one he, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had defeated on Halloween, lying spreadeagled in the center of the room. 

For a long moment the three of them simply stood there in the doorway, staring at the creature in disgust. Upon further inspection, it became apparent how the troll had been defeated, likely by similar means to how they had defeated the last one, which had admittedly been smaller, judging by the bloody wound on its head. 

“I’m guessing this one was Quirrel’s?” Draco managed to say, trying his hardest not to breathe in through his mouth as he did so. Smelling the troll was bad enough, he really did not want to taste it.

“Either way, I’m glad we were spared having to deal with this one,” Harry whispered as he stepped into the round chamber with an arched ceiling shrouded in darkness. Even in the dim lighting of the room, the disgust was clear on the other boy’s face as he looked down at the troll while cautiously stepping over its fat, lumpy legs. “Come on, I can’t breathe.” 

The other two, who were still standing in the doorway, scowled and hesitantly followed Harry across the room. This time they didn’t hesitate to open the door, anything seemed like it’d be better than to be trapped inside that chamber with the troll. Well, almost anything, Draco was not particularly keen to run into a dragon, but considering Snape was more the potions and puzzles type, it was highly unlikely his task would be a dragon or anything of the sort. Still, they all held their breaths as the door swung open.

Nothing threatening lay beyond the door, however, simply a plain stone chamber like the one before with a wood table standing in the center of it instead of a troll, seven bottles of varying sizes and shapes filled with different colored liquids lined up on it. A scroll of parchment lay rolled up in front of the bottles, a dark green ribbon tied around it like it was a document of some sort.  _ Definitely Severus’s… _

“Snape’s,” Harry said, stepping into the room with Hermione and Draco. “What do we have to do?”

Before either of them could answer, however, a loud  _ whoosh _ came from behind them and they all spun around, backing quickly away from the door. The doorway was filled with bright purple flames, flickering and popping, but emitting no heat or sparks. Then the same sound came from the other side of the room. Once again they all spun around and found the other doorway filled with black flames, trapping them inside the room. For a long moment they all stood in place, unsure of what they were supposed to do. They were trapped in a room with nothing but seven bottles filled with liquids that were likely potions, poisons and some other drink that may or may not be harmless. 

“Look!” Hermione suddenly exclaimed, striding over to the table and picking up the scroll. She quickly untied the ribbon and unrolled the parchment, eyes skimming over the words likely scrawled onto it in Draco’s godfather’s handwriting. Harry and Draco both looked over her shoulder at the riddle written there:

_ Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  _

_ Two of us will help you, which ever you would find, _

_ One among us seven will let you move ahead,  _

_ Another will transport the drinker back instead,  _

_ Two among our number hold only nettle wine, _

_ Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line. _

_ Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  _

_ To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  _

_ First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  _

_ You will always find some on nettle wine's left side; _

_ Second, different are those who stand at either end,  _

_ But if you would move onward, neither is your friend; _

_ Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  _

_ Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;  _

_ Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  _

_ Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight. _

Hermione let out a sigh, a small grin on her face, relief shining in her dark eyes. Draco himself felt relief at the fact that he had been correct on Snape having done something with both potions and riddles, both things he knew he was decently good at. 

“ _ Brilliant, _ ” Hermione said. “This isn’t magic, it’s logic, a riddle. Many of the greatest wizards don’t have an ounce of logic in their minds, they’d just be trapped here forever.”

Draco nodded, but Harry didn’t appear to share the other two’s relief and enthusiasm. His eyes were dark, moss green with panic, mouth curved down in a nervous frown. “But so will we, won’t we?” He asked, voice soft but audibly trembling slightly.

“Of course not,” Hermione scoffed as if Harry was being ridiculous just by thinking that. “Everything that we need is on this scroll. Seven bottles: three have poison, two wine, one lets us through the black flames and one lets us back through the purple ones.”

Her words didn’t seem to reassure Harry in the slightest, however, and he continued to frown nervously. “But how do we know which one we’re supposed to drink?” he asked, but before Hermione could answer Draco stepped a bit closer to her and looked down at the scroll again, tilting his head to the side.

“Can I see it?” Draco asked and wordlessly she handed him the parchment, which he read through again before giving it back to her. He got closer to the bottles and examined them intently, his mind whirring as he tried to figure out what each line of the riddle meant. The two on the end wouldn’t help them move forward, nor would the ones beside them, meaning one of the three in the middle would let them go through the flames in front of them, and the other two would kill them.

“I’ve got it.” Draco and Hermione both said at the same time, and he let her continue. They both likely figured out the same things, but still, Hermione would probably explain it better than him. “The smallest bottle will get us through the black flames, to the stone.” 

_ Okay, she didn’t exactly explain it, but that works too. _

“It only has enough for one,” Harry remarked, a fact which Draco was already aware of, but really wished weren’t the case. “It’s barely a swallow.”

All three of them looked at each for a long moment, all knowing what that meant. Only one of them could go on, and if Draco knew Harry, then he knew he would fight tooth and nail to be that person. 

“Which one goes back through the purple flames?” For a moment Draco and Hermione hesitated, then she pointed at a tall, pale blue bottle filled with a cloudy yellow liquid, which stood at the end of the row.

“You two drink that one, there’s enough for both of you,” Harry said immediately, not giving them any time for argument, proving Draco correct. Both of them, despite knowing the effort was fruitless, opened their mouths to protest, but were cut off before either of them could utter a syllable. “No, listen. Go back and take Ron with you, take three of the brooms from the room with the flying keys, those’ll get you through the trapdoor and past Fluffy; fly to the owlery immediately and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. Maybe I can hold Snape off for a little while, but really, I’m no match for him.”

Hermione and Draco both frowned nervously, the plan wasn’t terrible, in fact it made the most sense, but neither of them wanted to do it.

“But, Harry, what if You-Know-Who is with him?” Hermione asked in a slightly trembling voice, looking at him fearfully.

“Well, I got lucky last time,” Harry said as he pointed at his lightning scar, and though that was technically true, Draco found no comfort in his words. “Maybe I’ll get lucky again.”

For a long moment Hermione simply stood there, lips wobbling slightly, tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Then she launched herself at Harry, nearly knocking him over as she hugged him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“Hermione!”

“Harry, you’re a great wizard, you know that,” She said and Draco fidgeted slightly, feeling just as uncomfortable as Harry looked. He felt out of place, like he was watching a moment between the two of them and like he should be on the other side of those flames already.

“Not as great as you,” Harry said a bit stiffly and patted Hermione awkwardly on the back instead of reciprocating her hug. She immediately pulled back, sniffling slightly and blinking in an attempt to rid her eyes of the tears gathered in them.

“As me?” Hermione repeated slowly, looking at him. “Books! Cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh, Harry,  _ be careful _ !” 

He nodded and grabbed the pale blue bottle, looking down at it for a moment before handing it over to Hermione. “You drink first,” Harry said determinedly. “You’re sure you know what’s in there?”

The brunette nodded as well, holding the bottle a bit gingerly in her hands. “Positive,” she reassured him and then took a big gulp of the yellowish liquid. A shudder ran through her and for a moment Draco feared they really had got it wrong and that was the poison, then a tiny smile tugged at her lips.

“It's not poison?” Harry sounded a bit scared, as Draco had felt but relief replaced the fear the moment she nodded.

“Nope, but it’s like ice.” She said, shuddering again. 

“Quick, go. Before it wears off.” Harry made a slight shooing motion towards her, as if that could make her go faster, his eyes a bit nervous again.

“Good luck, be careful -”

“GO!” Harry yelled. Hermione shoved the bottle into Draco’s hands and then ran through the flames behind them, glancing back for a split second before crossing the threshold. The blond hesitated for a second, looking down at the bottle in his hand before glancing up at Harry. He bit his lower lip and, before he could think twice about it, he too stepped forward, like Hermione had, and pulled Harry into a tight hug. Draco had never really been the type to show affection in any way, let alone through hugs or anything of the sort, but for once it felt like if he didn’t, he would regret it forever, and he wouldn’t be able to go back.

“Be careful, Potter,” He said quietly and hugged his raven-haired best friend a bit tighter for a second before pulling away again.

“You to,... Malfoy.” Harry grinned slightly at him and then nodded at the bottle in Draco’s hand. “Go. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Draco nodded and, even though he would much rather have gone with the other boy instead, took a big gulp of the potion as Hermione had. She had been correct when she said it felt like ice. His throat immediately felt like he had swallowed snow or a lot of ice cream, his chest freezing slightly.

“See you,” he said and then placed the bottle back on the table and walked through the flames, glancing back briefly to see Harry pick up the small bottle with milky white liquid in it before he walked through the doorway and back into the room with the troll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, to write the riddle scene from Draco's perspective I had to actually solve the riddle on my own, which was freaking confusing because I had no visual, so... I drew it. I'm not positive I figured it out correctly, but I think I did? The drawing of the riddle will be with the others at the end. Also, guys, this fic has over 100,000 words now, how have I written that much?! That's like a full actual book, wtf.


	20. An Escape and The Headmaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6500 hits??!!! WHAT? Thank you guys so, so much!
> 
> Alright, school has started now (it was delayed for like a week because the air in my city was terrible and you could barely see anything outside from smoke, so.... fun times...), and has been happening for three weeks, and that means my updating schedule will either become more consistent, or incredibly inconsistent. I’m going to try and update at least once every weekend, but we’re gonna see if I manage. I do sort of have a life. (That mainly consists of reading, drawing, and writing original stuff, though school definitely snatches up a lot of my free time when I have it. AP and Honors classes are gonna butcher my ass, lol, I already have at least two tests coming up this week and I'm dying internally)
> 
> So, I thought I'd mention what I've been reading lately, lol, I don't know why but welp... I read all of the All For The Game trilogy in three days just before school started (if you like angst and want a new gay otp and love found family, I'd suggest it, don't judge me) (When I say angst, I mean it. This series is very angsty and has a hell of a lot of heavy stuff, so... be careful), and read the first book in The Last Hours (Chain of Gold) last week, also I just finished Carry On, so once again I am dying because my amount of otps is growing too rapidly, and I'm scared to read Wayward Son because the third book isn't out yet and I heard it ends on a cliffhanger... so... I'm gonna die a little bit. Also, The Tower of Nero is out now! And I'm also scared about that cause I have to wait till I can get it from the library. And I'm starting The Lost Book of the White, so Malec is gonna murder me, and... yeah. I'm dying currently because of books and this fic. Yay... :|
> 
> Also y'all, I've got a tumblr! You can find me here: https://writing-is-hard-af.tumblr.com/ , so... if you want to chat or whatever, then... you can find me. I'm not the most active person on there but I might start posting more on there.
> 
> Anyways, we’ve diverged from the part that was in the actual book, but still canonically happened (technically minus Draco, but y'know), so this chapter is different from the other more original chapters I’ve written. Either way, I hope y’all enjoy this even though it's a bit shorter than other chapters!

If the potion was ice, then the purple flames were lava, melting the chill that had settled in Draco’s bones the second the yellow liquid had touched his tongue. Walking through the doorway back into the room with the troll was like walking through a waterfall of boiling water, the heat overloading Draco’s senses. He couldn’t tell whether he was really hot, or really cold, but before he could even attempt to figure it out he was already back in the large chamber, the purple flames at his back.

A shudder went up his spine, his whole body trembling with the force of it. He glanced back at the flames behind him, still flickering and popping like a normal fire, except there was no real heat, and no sparks, and they were definitely not orange and gold. Draco stared at them for a few moments, the smell of the troll that had previously made him gag and choke on the air he was inhaling seemed faint now, there, but not really there. How could he have just left Harry there, alone, without anyone to help him if he needed it? How could he have done that?

Draco bit his lower lip to stop it from trembling, guilt pooling in his gut like acid, burning through him like the flames he had walked through to leave his best friend behind.

_Go._

Harry’s voice yelled in his head, telling him and Hermione to get Ron and find Dumbledore. Draco glanced around the room, the only thing in there besides himself was the troll, still unconscious with a bloody wound on its temple, Hermione was nowhere in sight. Where was she? Had she run ahead to Ron? It made sense that she would, especially since the smell in the room really was terrible, burning his nose with every breath he took. 

“You better come back out of there in one piece, Harry,” Draco whispered even though the boy he was talking to couldn’t hear him, and he ran across the room after only a moment’s hesitation. He yanked the door open and stumbled out of the room with the troll, into the long, winding hallway that led to the chessroom. Footsteps echoed from far down the hall, growing fainter by the second, and Draco immediately set off after them. They couldn’t waste any time, they had to get out of this place and find Dumbledore before it was too late to help Harry.

It seemed to take ten times longer to get back to the chessroom than it took to get to the troll room from there, and by the time Draco pushed the doors open his pulse was racing. What if Harry was already- _Nope, not gonna think about that, he’s fine._

Hermione looked up from Ron when Draco stumbled into the chessroom, the troubled look on her face fading somewhat when she saw him. Strands of her curly hair hung in front of her eyes, framing her face where it had come loose from the ponytail she had put it in before they left the common room. 

The room had somehow set itself back up while they were gone, the pieces that were broken all fixed, the pieces all back in their respective places. Ron was the only one still on the ground at the edge of the giant board, his vibrant ginger hair standing out against the dark grey stone beneath him.

“Is he alright?” Draco asked as he knelt down beside his two other best friends, looking up at Hermione. His own concern was mirrored in her gaze, but still she nodded in response.

“Yeah, I think so. We just… need to wake him up,” Hermione said and frowned down at Ron, chewing on her lower lip. She fidgeted with the strands of hair that were framing her face for a second, as if she didn't know exactly to do what she wanted to.

“Is there a spell for that?” Hermione glanced up at him, and for a second her usual self shone through her concern, her right eyebrow raising slightly.

“Really? Draco, we don’t need to use magic for everything. I’m just not sure if shaking him is a good idea, I read once if you move someone around who’s hurt it could make it worse and-”

“Then we won’t shake him. I have to wake him up almost every day for classes, so I know what gets him up.” Draco grinned at the confused look Hermione gave him and leaned a bit closer to Ron, the action both familiar and not at the same time. 

“Wake up! If you don’t get up this instant you’ll miss breakfast and I’ll hex you into next week!”

Hermione snorted next to him, and Draco rolled his eyes, sighing slightly when Ron didn’t move. Usually that worked, then again, usually Ron was just asleep and there were usually blankets Draco could pull off him to get him up quicker, or pillows he could throw at his head. “Well, I’ve only said this once, but considering it’s actually true this time…” A frown tugged at his lips before he yelled at Ron, “Wake up, Ronald, Harry’s in danger and if you don’t get your ass up, he’s going to die, so you better wake up this instant!”

That got a reaction out of Ron, somehow, and he stirred, blinking groggily up at them. “What?”

“Ron!” Hermione yelled and practically threw herself at him, causing a small grunt to escape him. Draco sighed in relief and ran his hand through his hair, a bit of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. At least one of his friends was mostly okay.

“What-” Ron looked around in confusion, blinking rapidly as if the torchlight was too bright for him, something he always seemed to do in the mornings because of the sunlight. “Where’s Harry?”

“He…” Hermione pulled away from Ron and glanced back at Draco, the concerned look on her face returning. “He’s where the stone is, only one person could go on and… he did. He told us to go get Dumbledore.”

“He’s there alone?” Ron demanded and Draco nodded, the guilt and fear becoming heavier in his stomach, more like lead now than acid. _I should’ve found a way to get us both through the black flames, I should have found a way for Harry to not have to go alone. What if he’s dead because we left him? What if-_

“That’s why we need to get Dumbledore, he’s the only person who can help Harry. We have no idea what we would need to make to get past the flames, and besides, Dumbledore will be more help to Harry. Can you stand, Ron?” Ron frowned at Hermione’s words, his eyes shining a dark, sapphire blue, a few shades darker than usual, but he nodded slightly.

“Yeah, think so.” He pushed himself up and, with Hermione and Draco’s help, stood up. Ron’s legs trembled slightly underneath him, but he seemed steady enough when he let go of the two and took a few steps forward. He had a slight limp, quite obviously favoring his left leg, and he brushed his fingers against the side of his hand, looking down at the thin layer of scarlet red blood on his fingertips, but when he turned to face Draco and Hermione again his eyes were steely with determination.

“Are you alright?” Draco couldn’t stop himself from asking, the blood made him nervous, as did the limp. What if he was hurt more than they originally thought?

“I’m fine, Dray.” Usually Draco would have glared at him or whacked his arm with a book, but for once the nickname just felt like a reassurance that Ron was really okay, and was either trying to annoy him, or forgot not to call him that. “How are we planning on finding Dumbledore? He’s still at the Ministry.”

“Harry said we should take the brooms from the room with the keys and fly out to the owlery to send Hedwig to him,” Draco said, and before Ron could respond Hermione spoke.

“Should Ron really fly though? I mean, he’s clearly hurt, he could get hurt o-”

“Hermione, I can fly, my head just hurts a little bit.” Draco swallowed down his comment on the fact that Ron was limping, and that maybe Hermione had a bit of a point. Ron was stubborn, like Harry, though his unwillingness to back down likely came with growing up with multiple siblings. Draco didn’t have any, and his entire childhood he had trouble getting his parents to pay an ounce of attention to him, Ron having six siblings probably made it near impossible to be paid attention to without fighting with everyone else. Then again, the Weasleys seemed a bit different from his family, it seemed almost more likely Ron would’ve gotten stubborn having to deal with being blamed by the twins for things they did.

“But-”

“Hermione, I can fly, _you_ just don’t want to.” Hermione stared at him for a moment, scowling in what seemed to be anger, even though her eyes really did show concern.

“Fine, but if you fall I will not feel bad about it.” Draco snorted slightly. Even though she was joking, her tone sounded serious and if anyone were there who hadn’t been friends with her for months and months they likely would have looked at her in slight horror. Ron’s lips tugged up slightly at the corners.

“We should go,” Draco said and they both nodded. The three of them moved around the many giant chess pieces that were somewhat in their way, looking at them warily, but none of them sprang back to life as they went to the door leading back to the keys. The three of them exchanged looks, making sure the others were ready to go back, before opening the door.

The keys were still flying around in a cloud of metal and colorful wings above them, the sound of their wings fluttering echoing through the tall, round room. The brooms were still where we left them on the ground, in a pile. Draco swiftly picked one up, the handle a familiar weight in his hand even though he hadn’t been able to properly fly in months. A small amount of comfort washed over him like a cool breeze in the middle of a scorching summer day, and he felt a tiny smile tug at his lips even though the worry for Harry still made it feel as if he was being weighed down by sandbags. Hermione frowned down at the brooms for a few seconds before picking up one of the remaining three, while Ron grabbed one as well. 

“Do we get on the brooms now, or do we wait until we get to the Devil’s Snare?” Ron asked, and ,before Hermione could even attempt to put off getting on the broom longer, as Draco was sure she would, he spoke.

“Flying will be a lot quicker than walking or running, plus it’s easier. It’d be better if we just flew from here.” Hermione scowled at him, looking as if she wanted to protest. “Hermione, we’ll be able to help Harry faster if we fly. I’m sorry you hate it, but… we _need_ to get Harry help before it’s… before it’s too late.” She closed her mouth and looked down, nodding almost imperceptibly. 

“Okay, let’s go.” She climbed onto her broom and shakily rose up a foot or so from the ground, Draco and Ron doing the same, though much steadier. 

All three of them raced down the hall leading back to the Devil’s Snare and the trapdoor, going, as Draco had said, much quicker than they would have on foot. They flew through the door into the circular chamber-like room that the Devil’s Snare was in and Draco pulled up swiftly, flying up quicker than Ron and Hermione, both of which struggled slightly to change direction so quickly, though luckily neither of them crashed into the walls. The trapdoor was still open above them, the square of light steadily growing larger and larger, from the size of a postage stamp to the size of an envelope, to the size of a textbook, and then its actual 4 by 4 foot size. They flew through it, right past Fluffy, who growled but didn’t do anything to stop them from leaving.

The door of the corridor stood wide open, though Draco couldn’t remember if they had left it that way or if something, like wind or a ghost, had opened it further than it had been before. They flew through it one at a time and then, for the first time, slowed the pace at which they were flying. “How are we going to get out to the Owlery? It’s on the other side of the grounds!” Ron asked as he finally caught up with Draco, who glanced over at him and then around the corridor they were floating in, the same one they had been in months ago after running from Filch, almost the same spot as they had stopped in as well. 

“Flying through the whole castle could take a while, plus we risk being caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris… The classrooms and the windows inside don’t have any locks that _Alohomora_ doesn’t work on, right?” Draco directed the last thing at Hermione, who was hovering, no longer as shakily as she had before, beside Ron. 

“There’s nothing important enough in there for them to do that, and we could get past the door leading to Fluffy that way, so I’m pretty sure we could get in. What are you thinking, Draco?” She asked and Draco looked over at the nearest door, tilting his broom ever so slightly in its direction as he leaned forward slightly. He moved toward the door and right in front of it he slipped his wand out of his pocket.

“We’ll fly through a window. They should be big enough for a couple of first years to fit through.” Draco tapped the lock on the door with the tip of his wand, murmuring the spell to unlock it under his breath. A loud click came from the lock as it opened and he pushed the thick door, causing it to swing open.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked and he looked back at her and Ron. They both had nervous expressions on their faces, frowns on their faces, eyebrows scrunched up exactly the same way. 

“Yeah, hurry up,” Draco said and looked into the dark classroom, lit only by thin shafts of silver moonlight shining in through the windows. “Harry can’t last forever on his own, even if it’s only Severus…” He leaned forward again, trying to push down his fear and worry, it would affect his flying and he couldn’t let anything do that right now. He needed to get Harry help, nothing could distract him, not even the thought of Harry himself.

He flew, perhaps a bit too quickly since he almost flew into the window, across the classroom that looked as if it hadn’t been used in years, tables stacked in corners and dust covering everything. He tapped the window’s lock, murmuring “Alohomora.” under his breath. This time the spell just opened the window completely of its own accord and cool, humid summer night air hit him in the face, blowing his hair back a bit.

A small breath escaped him and he flew out of the window, glancing back to see Hermione and Ron following him out of the castle. The moon shone brightly above them, stars glittering against the dark blue sky behind thin wisps of clouds. Draco looked around the grounds, trying to remember where exactly the Owlery was. Funny how he had lived in the castle for over nine months, yet still didn’t know where everything was.

“This way,” Hermione said and when Draco looked back at her, she was pointing to their right where in the distance a large tower was jutting up from the ground, slightly out of place all alone in the middle of the fields, a decent distance away from the rest of the castle. Draco tilted his broom in its direction, leaning forward again so he was flying towards it. He gradually picked up pace as he remembered why he had to get there. What if they were already too late? What if Hedwig couldn’t reach Dumbledore in time? What if Dumbledore didn’t come back to help? What if he -

Draco’s worries cut off abruptly when he saw another broom flying towards them, the figure on it dressed in vibrant purple robes, visible even in the dim lighting. As they both continued flying in the direction they were going, approaching each other, Draco realized who the person on the other broom was: _Dumbledore_.

Draco yanked his broom to a stop. Why was he back? Were there alarms set on the trapdoor they didn’t know about? Or had someone come to check on the trapdoor in the middle of the night and noticed it was open and run off to get him to come back? Was that why the door was open?

“Dumbledore?” Ron said in disbelief as he too pulled to a stop beside Draco, staring at their headmaster who was now barely ten feet away from them. 

“Well, that certainly makes things a bit easier,” Hermione murmured, mostly to herself. “Professor!” 

Dumbledore pulled to a stop right in front of the three of them, though he looked ready to fly off again rather quickly. His long silver hair and beard were windswept, his usual pointed hat missing from his head, half-moon glasses on his nose in front of blue eyes that for once weren’t twinkling. “Where’s Harry?” he demanded, “He went after him, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” was all Draco seemed to manage at that moment, not sure how the headmaster could possibly have known that. That seemed to be all Dumbledore needed for an answer, however, because he nodded. There was a small gust of wind and he was gone. Draco looked back and saw Dumbledore racing off back towards the castle, towards the window they had left open. 

“Um, what do we do now?” Ron asked, blue eyes wide and confused when Draco glanced back at him. 

“We go to the Hospital Wing, that’s where they’ll go afterwards, even if Harry’s fine. Which he will be. He’ll be fine, he will.” Nobody had said otherwise, but the way Hermione repeated it, a scared look in her eyes, just made Draco more nervous than he already was

“He’ll be fine,” Draco repeated, trying his best to believe it. Still, his mind kept feeding him images of things he didn’t want to think about as they flew back to the school themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, y'all, I need some help. I have no clue how to insert my art into this because I've never inserted any pictures into a chapter on Ao3 before, so... can someone please explain to me how exactly I'm supposed to do it? Please?


	21. Books and Worries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah, I added another chapter. This chapter got split into two parts, so now there will be 23 official chapters and one art one (that includes part of the first chapter of the second book in this series!).
> 
> Hope y’all enjoy this!

The next two days following everything that happened with the trapdoor seemed to blur together, as if they were only a dream, or perhaps the word nightmare fit it better. Ron, Hermione, and Draco had been sent away from the Hospital Wing before they even got to see if Harry had made it out of the room past the flames; Madame Pomfrey had somehow managed to summon Professor McGonagall. She sent them all back to Gryffindor Tower, though surprisingly she didn’t take any points from them for being out of bed after hours. Maybe she knew what was going on, or maybe she just took pity on how terrified they all likely looked, still, she wouldn’t let them stay there to wait to at least find out if Harry was okay.

Later that night, Professor Dumbledore himself came up to Gryffindor Tower. None of them had gone back up to their dormitories, though they had undone the spell they had placed on Neville, who had stared at them for a solid minute, a worried and slightly nervous smile on his face, before running off to their dorm without saying a word. Ron, Hermione, and Draco had all curled up on the couch closest to the fireplace, even though it was still cold and empty, as it had been for months. None of them were touching, though they were as close as you could be without doing so. Usually Draco would have stood up and moved to sit on one of the armchairs next to the couch, but he felt like he needed to be as close to them as possible at the moment, as if they would disappear if he left them. By the time Dumbledore came through the portrait hole and into the common room, Draco had begun to drift off to sleep even though he was terrified of what they would find out as soon as someone decided they deserved to know what was happening. 

The first thing the Headmaster told them was that Harry would be okay, he was just unconscious and it could be a little while before he woke up, though it would likely only be a couple days. He didn’t tell them how hurt he was, he didn’t tell them why he was unconscious, didn’t tell them anything besides that Harry would be fine, even when they begged him to tell them everything else. They weren’t told if it had truly been Severus who had been trying to steal the stone, they weren’t told if the stone was safe now, they weren’t really told _anything_ , and it made everything even more terrifying than it already had been.

What if when Harry woke up, he didn’t remember anything? What if he was really hurt, like lost a limb type of hurt? What if Dumbledore had been lying, and he wouldn’t be okay? Nothing Draco was told by Hermione and Ron, both of which seemed to be trying to convince _themselves_ more than anything of their words, about how he would be fine, could calm his worry. 

The first day after everything was disorienting. Everyone seemed to know that something had happened the night before, though nobody knew exactly what besides that it had something to do with Harry, who was now in the hospital wing and wasn’t allowed visitors. The stories people were coming up with were all completely wrong, though many of them included Professor Quirrell or Severus, since neither of them seemed to be in the castle. None of the teachers said anything about any of it, they simply acted like nothing had happened, even when Draco, Ron, and Hermione attempted to get answers out of someone besides Dumbledore. 

The day after that was almost worse, because not only did the whole school seem to know something had happened, but they also seemed to know that Draco, Ron, and Hermione were involved in it somehow as well and many people had asked them what happened. They didn’t tell them anything, though it was partly because they themselves didn’t really know that much; they knew how they got through the protections placed around the stone, which nobody else seemed to know about thankfully, but after that they knew next to nothing. They knew nothing about why both Severus and Quirrell had disappeared, they suspected it had something to do with the Philosopher’s Stone, but they _knew_ nothing.

The second night after they snuck through the trapdoor the three of them tried to get back to, at least somewhat, normal. Hermione had received a letter from her parents just after dinner, and after reading it had decided she would reply in a while, which was somewhat unusual considering she almost always jumped at the thought of writing back to her parents, immediately stopping everything she had been doing to reply to their most recent one. This time however she had placed the letter to the side and turned to face Ron, who was staring somewhat blankly out the window, his long fingers tapping irregularly against his arms, both of which were crossed on top of his knees, which he had pulled up to his chest.

“Let’s play chess.” Ron looked over at her in surprise, as if he had forgotten he wasn’t sitting alone somewhere.

“Huh?” he made a confused noise, blue eyes bright, head tilted to the side in a questioning manner as he slowly unfolded his legs and lowered his arms so they were no longer crossed.

“I said let’s play chess, Ron. I need to do something that doesn’t involve thinking about Harry or the stone, and I think you need to too,” Hermione said and Draco glanced up from the book propped open in his lap that he had been attempting to read for the past hour. It had been given to him by Hermione, along with a few others, for his birthday a few days earlier. The fact that it hadn’t even been a week since his birthday felt weird, wrong, like there was no possible way it was true. How could it only have been a few days ago that they had been laughing and throwing pillows at each other in the first year boys’ dorm?

“I… okay,” Ron said a bit hesitantly and slowly stood up. “I’ll go get the board and pieces.” He walked off to the spiral staircase leading up to the dorms and quickly went up them, leaving Hermione and Draco, along with a few older students who had decided to stay in the common room for a while longer than everyone else, alone down there. Draco went back to his book, staring down at the pages as he tried to remember where he had been in it. Keyword there being _tried_. All Draco really knew about the book, despite the fact that he was already a decent amount of chapters into it, was that it was about some girl who accidentally found a different world that seemed to be winter everywhere. He’d probably be enjoying it a lot more than he was if his mind didn’t keep returning to Harry, to the trapdoor, to the stone.

Ron came back down a couple minutes later, but this time Draco didn’t look up from his book. If they wanted him to play too they would ask, though he doubted they would, so he continued to try and focus on his book. It sort of worked for a while, his mind finally letting him get caught up in the story enough to understand what was happening, but after what was probably a half an hour, though it could have been more, he was pulled back to reality rather harshly by Ron.

“I-I give up! I can’t concentrate. I… I’m going to bed. See you guys tomorrow.” Ron said somewhat aggressively and Draco looked up from his book to see him shove the chess board away from himself, knocking several pieces over in the process which made small, almost inaudible noises of protest. He stood up and stormed off to the dorms, leaving Hermione alone on the couch they had been sitting on while playing. She stared after him for a long moment, eyebrows pinched together in worry, dark eyes shining with concern, before she sighed and began putting the game away. Draco watched her for a few moments before glancing back at the staircase leading up to the dormitories. Part of him wanted to put his book away and go up them to make sure Ron was okay, but he also knew he’d get the same answer that he already knew he would-- _”I’m fine.”_ \--even though Ron wasn’t, not really.

He sighed and turned back to his book, trying to get himself back into the story again. It didn’t work particularly well, Ron’s outburst had broken all illusions he had managed to create for himself, his mind creating images that made him feel as if he was watching some sort of sequence of scenes that were meant to make him terrified all over again. Harry would be _fine_ , Albus Dumbledore himself had said so, except that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? He _would_ be fine, he wasn’t right now, he was hurt, and Draco hadn’t been allowed to see him, not once. How bad could it possibly be for him to not be allowed any visitors?

There was a small rustle from near him and Draco looked up, half expecting to see someone coming through the portrait hole to either tell them Harry was dead, or that he had woken up. All it was, however, was a sixth year standing up and going over to the stairs heading up to the girls’ dorms. Hermione looked up too; she now had a large, old book propped on her knees, though it was closed, with a piece of paper--normal paper, not parchment--on top of it, and she held a quill in her right hand. After a short moment she looked back down at the paper, absentmindedly dipping the quill in the ink bottle she had open on the arm of the armchair she had moved to which was a bit closer to Draco than the couch had been. The scratching of her quill filled the air again and Draco watched for a few seconds before turning back to his book again. She was probably writing her letter back to her parents, that was the only thing she ever used regular paper for, and they didn’t have any assignments besides their summer homework anyway, which she could technically be doing, though Draco doubted it. She didn’t have a single book open around her, and he knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate at the moment even if she tried.

No matter how hard Draco tried to focus on the book opened in front of him, it just didn’t work. At some point, or perhaps at more than one point, he considered starting a conversation with Hermione, maybe asking her about her parents because they always seemed to be a safe subject to talk about when there wasn’t any schoolwork to be done, but he quickly shrugged the idea off each time he got it. She was writing a letter, and he doubted he’d really be able to keep the conversation up for long without slipping into mentioning his worry for Harry.

After a while, it could have been minutes or hours, Draco wasn’t really sure, Hermione stopped writing and when Draco looked up she was slipping her letter into an envelope that had “ _Mum and Dad_ ” scrawled across the front in Hermione’s loopy handwriting. She slipped the envelope into her bag, which she seemed to take everywhere, even after classes were over, and closed her ink bottle, dropping it and her quill into the leather bag as well. The large book she had been using as a table of sorts had disappeared, likely into her bag as well. She stood up from the armchair, grabbing hold of the leather strap of her bag and slinging it over her shoulder like she did after class. 

“I’m going to bed.” Draco made a small noise of acknowledgement, letting her know he had heard her, as he went back to looking at his book, hoping it would somehow, by some type of magic that the muggle book wasn’t capable of, pull him away from this world and into a different, perhaps simpler, one. His fingers began tapping on the back of the book, an odd habit he’d had his whole life, but usually managed to control better. “You should too, Draco. It’s nearly midnight.” Hermione sounded a bit concerned, but Draco didn’t want to look at her. He hated seeing her worried expression, which had been the look on her face almost constantly since they snuck out two nights ago, hated how half the time it was directed at him because he’d barely eaten or slept since then.

Hermione didn’t move however, and Draco could practically feel her gaze on him. When he finally glanced her way, her eyes were full of worry as he had expected, shining in the light of the lamp that was on beside him.

“I’m not tired, I’ll go up later,” Draco said and looked away from her again. Her gaze felt heavy somehow, like it was weighing him down. How could someone looking at you make you feel like something was draped over your shoulders, something heavy and big, like a sandbag?

Hermione sighed and for a moment Draco almost thought she had given up and was going up to her dorm, except her footsteps didn’t retreat, they came towards him. She sat down on the arm of his chair, one leg over the outer side and the other on the inside, like the armrest was a broom. For a long moment she was silent, and Draco was pretty sure she was still giving him that worried look.

“I’m worried about him too, Draco, but you refusing to sleep is not going to make him any better, nor will it help us find anything out about what happened,” she spoke softly, almost in a whisper and the weight of her gaze seemed to lift off his shoulders. Still, Draco didn’t look at her. Some part of him knew she was right, Harry wouldn’t wake up any quicker by Draco forcing himself to stay awake, but at the same time, he didn’t _want_ to sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, his mind came up with images of how bad Harry had been hurt, of what could have happened. Sleeping had become a near impossible thing the past couple days.

“I know, I just…” Draco trailed off, unsure of how exactly he wanted to continue. How could he explain that he was scared he would fall asleep and miss something happening? How could he explain that he was tired, but didn’t want to let himself fall asleep because he feared what his dreams held? Saying that would just sound ridiculous, even though it was true.

“Get some sleep, Draco, it’s not going to make anything bad happen,” she said, almost as if she had read his mind and he glanced at her. “At least go up to the dorm and lie down, okay?” Hermione squeezed his arms slightly before standing up and going over to the staircase leading up to the girls’ dormitories. “He’ll be okay, Draco. He’s Harry.”

Draco looked back at her as she ascended the staircase to her dorm. She was right, he sighed slightly and slowly closed his book, he should go to bed, even if it was just for a little while.


	22. The Hospital Wing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 7000 hits and 200 kudos?!? Thank you guys so much!❤️
> 
> The way Harry explains what happened is sorta weird cause I don’t know if anyone would actually just tell it like a story, but... welp... y’all are gonna have to bear with me on this one.
> 
> Y’all, I messed up like five times while posting this chapter, lol. Hopefully it’s actually right this time.

The next day was different somehow. Maybe it was because he actually slept a little bit the night before, maybe it was something else. Either way, when Draco woke up he felt as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He rolled onto his side and pushed himself up into a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. The curtains that he usually had closed while he slept were open, though Draco was pretty sure he had left them that way the night before, so he didn’t really question it.

“You actually sleep last night?” Draco looked up from the ground, which he had been staring a bit blankly at for the past few minutes, half-asleep still. Ron was the only other person in their dorm room, meaning Dean, Seamus, and Neville had likely already gone down to breakfast. His red hair was a mess--more than usual--and the look in his eyes was tired, but there was a small genuine smile on his face.

“Guess so… Is Harry still…?” Ron nodded slightly, frowning as he looked down at his hands. 

“Yeah, unless he woke up and nobody decided to tell us.” He took a deep breath, like he was trying to calm himself, and looked back up at Draco. His expression went from troubled and worried back to what seemed to be a reassuring smile, a tiny bit of the spark Draco had gotten used to since the beginning of the year, but had been mostly gone for the past few days, shining in his eyes. “How about we go down to breakfast? It’s almost nine.”

“You say that like that’s not an hour before you usually get up when we don’t have classes,” Draco said, without really thinking. He hadn’t made any sort of joke since they got past Fluffy, he had been too scared and worried to even feel capable of it. Ron grinned for the first time in days and stood up.

“You’re the one who slept in. C’mon, I’m starving,” Ron said and made his way towards the door of the dorm, grinning at Draco, who in turn raised an eyebrow at him.

“When are you not starving? Also, I’m not dressed.” Ron eyed the uniform Draco was still wearing from yesterday, which was now slightly wrinkled because he had slept in it. Ron or Harry would have just left it on without really thinking about it, if either of them actually fell asleep in their uniform, which seemed an unlikely scenario, Ron hated the uniform and Harry liked the pajamas the school gave them better cause he found them more comfortable, they were softer or something. They’d probably just straighten their ties a bit, nothing else. Draco on the other hand couldn’t stand the idea of staying in something he’d already been wearing for over 24 hours. The collar felt like it was choking him, the shirt was scratchy and the pants were twisted up. 

“Nobody’s gonna care,” Ron said and Draco raised an eyebrow at him again.

“Well,  _ I care. _ I’m going to change, you can go ahead, I’ll catch up.” Draco waved a bit dismissively in Ron’s direction as he stood up and went to the closet that held his clothes.

“Knowing you, you’ll take half an hour to ‘ _ change’ _ ,” Draco could practically hear the air quotation marks Ron was probably making. “I’m gonna wait for you and if you’re not done in ten minutes, I’m going to drag you down to the Great Hall, no matter how little gel you have in your hair or how crooked your tie is.”

Draco closed the door of his closet part-way and glared at Ron, who just gave him a slightly unimpressed look. “Shut up, Weasley,” he snapped, even though he knew he was technically right, he did take longer than most to get ready in the morning.

“You’re not scary,  _ Malfoy _ ,” Ron emphasized the last word with a slight mocking undertone. “You’re not even five feet tall.”

Draco glared at him for a few more seconds before turning away and rifling through the clothes in his closet, ignoring the other gryffindor. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t a beanstalk like Ron! 

Where were all his clothes that weren’t uniforms? After a solid minute of staring at the identical white button-ups hanging in there, and the identical grey sweaters, and identical black pants, he sighed quietly and grabbed one of the shirts and pants before opening the top drawer under the doors and took out a tie and new pair of socks. 

When he straightened up and closed his closest, Ron raised an eyebrow at him like he was telling Draco to hurry up without actually saying it. “Shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Ron said, grinning slightly. Once again the amused expression threw Draco off a bit, he hadn’t looked actually happy at all since they went through the trapdoor. What was different suddenly?

Instead of saying anything in response to that, Draco simply turned and stalked off to the bathroom. The day before, he would have snapped something about how he shouldn’t be looking that happy or smug, Harry was still hurt, maybe dying, and they didn’t really know anything, but something was different, though what it was, Draco didn’t have a clue.

  
  


The first difference outside of the fact that the air felt lighter, like the tension that had hung over the school since Harry had ended up in the Hospital Wing had disappeared, was that Severus was back. When Draco, Ron, and Hermione, who had been waiting for them in the Common Room, reading, came into the Great Hall, they all immediately noticed him. Nothing about his appearance gave away anything about whether or not he had been the one who had hurt Harry. He looked exactly like he always did; hair straight and shiny with grease, skin pasty, long black robes on despite the warm weather.

The three gryffindors froze in the doorway when they saw him and after staring at him for what was at least half a minute, they all simultaneously started walking towards their table, where they sat at the very end, as far from everyone else as possible. 

“What’s he doing here? Shouldn’t he be locked in Azkaban?” Ron hissed the second they sat down, glancing at the front of the room again at Severus. His hands were fidgeting with the fork sitting next to the plate in front of him, his eyes glinting nervously, any of his previous happiness completely gone.

“Technically, Dumbledore never told us it was him, which means he might not know,” Hermione said, her gaze also flicking between Snape and Draco and Ron, chewing on her lower lip. The flush her cheeks had before from the heat of the day was gone.

“Both he and Quirrell disappeared after it happened, isn’t that suspicious? Why would he even come back? Especially without Quirrell. Anyone with even a small amount of common sense could put together that he was connected to both Quirrell’s disappearance and Harry being hurt.” Draco frowned at his godfather, though he honestly didn’t feel like the man deserved the title anymore if he really was the one who had hurt Harry and tried to take the stone.

“You think he killed Quirrell?” Ron spoke so quietly Draco almost missed it, but he turned to look at him and saw by how pale the redhead was that he hadn’t misheard him. 

“I don’t know…”

“He might have, except they could probably trace it back to him. I imagine magic just makes it easier to find out who murdered someone,” Hermione said with a slight tremble in her voice. She looked even more scared than she would if someone told her she had to hover a hundred feet in the air on a broom for an hour.

“Not if he used the killing curse and transformed the body into something nobody would question, like a stick or something.” Draco bit his lip and shuddered.

“We need to tell someone that he’s the one who tried to take the stone,” Ron said and Hermione nodded, glancing at the teacher’s table again before looking away quickly, as if Snape would know what they were saying just by her looking his way.

“Both McGonagall and Dumbledore aren’t here,” she said. The latter of the two not being there wasn’t that unusual, Dumbledore was rarely there for meals, but Professor McGonagall not being there was both convenient and concerning. She was almost always there, the only times she wasn’t was when something big had happened.

“She’s probably in her office.” The three of them stood up again, Ron grabbing a piece of toast quickly before they left the Great Hall. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say a word as they all walked as quickly as they could without looking like they were forcing themselves not to run towards where Professor McGonagall’s office was.

They didn’t even make it past the first flight of stairs, however, before they almost collided with the person they were looking for. “Mr. Malfoy! Slow down! Same goes for you, Ms. Granger, and, you Mr. Weasley.” They all froze, staring at Professor McGonagall with likely identical expressions of slight guilt on their faces. “I was just about to come and find you three.”

Draco, Ron, and Hermione all glanced at each other. Why would she be looking for them?

“Is Harry alright?” Hermione demanded, and dread pooled in Draco’s gut at the thought that their head of house had been looking for them to tell them Harry was dead. Her expression didn’t appear troubled, which likely meant he hadn’t, but still, he couldn’t shove away his fear like he wanted to.

“Yes, in fact that’s what I came to speak to you about. He woke up this morning, and keeps asking about the three of you.” Draco, Ron, and Hermione all let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Can we see him?” Ron asked, blue eyes brighter than they had been in days, no longer clouded with worry.

“Yes, I believe so, though not for very long, he needs to rest.” Some part of Draco wanted to protest that Harry had been resting for three days already, but he knew that while that was true, depending on how hurt Harry was, he could need weeks of rest.

“Doesn’t matter how long, we just want to make sure he’s okay,” Draco said and when Hermione and Ron nodded, Professor McGonagall sighed softly and nodded herself.

“Alright, Madame Pomfrey will let you in,” she said and before she could say another word they were running, the reason they had originally been looking for her completely forgotten. Besides, if Harry was awake, he had probably already told Dumbledore what had happened.

They raced through the corridors of the castle, nearly tripping over their own feet multiple times in their haste to get to the Hospital Wing. Maybe this was why everything had felt different when Draco woke up that morning, maybe some part of his subconscious could tell that things really were alright again, like his magic could somehow sense that Harry had woken up.

It seemed to take ten times longer than usual to get to the Hospital Wing, the stairs all seemed to be against them, moving when they didn’t want them to, catching their feet in trick steps they hadn’t known about. By the time they got there, all of them were breathing a bit heavily from running, strands of Hermione’s hair framed her face, having escaped the ponytail she’d had it in, and Draco’s fringe was falling in his eyes, having grown out slightly due to not having been cut in months, only kept in check by his magic, which seemed to keep it at a tolerable length. Ron had kept his word up in the common room and dragged Draco out of there before he had even got the chance to try and fix his hair. In all honesty, Draco realized it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be without gel.

The door was locked when they tried to open it, which seemed incredibly odd and inconvenient considering this was the place anyone who got hurt in any way was supposed to go. Voices were audible from the other side of the door, though what they were saying, and who they belonged to was impossible to figure out, the thick wood of the door muffled it too much. Draco looked at Hermione and Ron, about to knock on the door to see if they’d be let in. Before he could, however, the lock clicked and opened.

“Five minutes,” Madame Pomfrey said like she would rather tell them to go back to their dorms like she had done after making sure they were alright three days earlier. How had she known it was them? She stepped to the side and wandered towards her office in the back, allowing Draco, Ron, and Hermione to run inside the Hospital Wing. Harry wasn’t hard to spot, he was in the second bed on the right side of the room, bedside table covered in candy and notes from people.

“ _ Harry! _ ” It could have been one or all of them who yelled it, but either way they all raced to his side. Hermione almost threw herself at Harry to hug him again like she had before walking through the door of flames, but she stopped herself at the last moment, seeming to realize it might not be the best idea. Her eyes held even more concern than Draco had ever seen from her, and it struck him that she must have been hiding how worried she was in an attempt to make Ron and Draco less worried over the past few days. It was a sort of odd thing to think about, but if she had been as out of it as him and Ron were, Draco was sure both of them would have been much worse.

“Oh Harry, we thought you would--Dumbledore was so worried--” The last part was somewhat debatable in Draco’s opinion, but he didn’t comment on it. 

He sat down on the bed next to Harry’s legs, a frown tugging at his lips as he tried and failed to push down the concern that still bubbled inside his chest. “Are you alright? Nobody would tell us anything, not even if you were hurt or-or dying. You’re okay, though, right?” Draco spoke quickly, nerves making his words almost blur together. He had gone days without knowing if his best friend would make it to the end of the school year, Draco was pretty sure that gave him the right to be scared, though it still felt like a weakness, as his father had always seemed to think--too much connection to someone made it so they could hurt you, it was better to not get attached.

“I’m fine, Draco. My head just hurts a bit, that’s all. Are you guys alright?” Harry asked in response and Hermione, Ron, and Draco all nodded.

“Just a few scrapes, we’re all fine,” Ron said, sitting down on the other side of the bed, frowning at Harry. “The whole school’s been talking about what they think happened, but… Harry, what  _ really _ happened?”

Harry hesitated for a moment before speaking, his right hand rubbing at his scar almost absentmindedly.

“When I got past the flames, I ended up in this big room. Someone was already there, but it wasn’t who we thought it would be--it was Quirrell.” Their eyes all widened in shock.

“Quirrell?” Ron demanded and Harry nodded, the look in his eyes showing that he hadn’t expected it any more than they had.

“That explains why he hasn’t been here since then…” Harry grimaced at Draco’s words and looked down at his hands, which he had clenched tightly into fists in his lap.

“Yeah… everything was Quirrell. He’s the one who tried to knock me off my broom during the Quidditch game, he’s the one who let the troll in. Snape was trying to stop him the whole time. That’s why he got hurt on Halloween, he went up to the third floor to try and catch Quirrell, but Fluffy got him instead. He must have been saying a counter curse during the Quidditch match, and he wasn’t threatening Quirrell to get him to tell him how to get the stone, but to know how much he knew.” Had this been about anything else, Draco would’ve said, “I told you so,” but he didn’t, because it really wasn’t something he should be smug about, especially considering he had ended up believing it was Severus in the end.

“The mirror was there, in the room,” Harry continued, and it took Draco a moment to understand which mirror he was talking about. How had it moved from that abandoned classroom to down through the trapdoor? “Dumbledore managed to hide the stone in there so that the only way you could get it out was if you wanted it, but not to use it. Quirrell was trying to figure out how to get it out, because he didn’t know that, but he couldn’t figure it out, so he told his master he needed help.”

“ _ Master? _ ” Hermione, Ron, and Draco all demanded at the same time, and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, he just said he needed help, told his master to help him, and a voice answered, even though nobody else was there. He had me look in the mirror and tell him what I saw, but I lied because I saw myself getting the stone, and suddenly I felt it in my pocket,” Hermione made a small confused noise but didn’t say anything, chewing on her lower lip.

“I told him I saw us winning the house cup and he shoved me away. I thought I might be able to escape, but before I could get out of there, the voice spoke again; it said that I was lying. Quirrell tried to get me to tell him what I’d really seen but I didn’t get a chance, not that I would have taken it if I had, to talk, because the voice said it wanted to talk to me, face-to-face.” Harry shuddered slightly like even the memory of it scared him, which made Draco gulp and frown. Barely anything scared Harry, he was made of courage and bravery, strong and confident no matter what was happening.

“Quirrell took his turban off and… Voldemort was under it,” Hermione shrieked and clamped her hand over her mouth, staring at Harry with wide, terrified eyes while Draco and Ron’s jaws dropped, both paling.

“V-Voldemort?” 

Harry nodded, looking a little pale himself as he spoke again. “He tried to get me to give him the stone, and when I wouldn’t… he told Quirrell to grab me. When he did though, it burned him, and it made my scar hurt. Voldemort kept telling him to grab me when Quirrell let go because touching me was hurting him. He…” Harry frowned and absentmindedly rubbed at his throat, which brought Draco’s attention to the fading bruises there. A spike of fear and anger went through him and he knew what Harry’s words would be before he even spoke them. “He tried to strangle me, but it kept burning him and… and then, I don’t really know why, I grabbed his face and he… I don’t exactly know, honestly. I passed out.” 

Draco moved a bit closer, resisting the urge to reach towards Harry and move his hand out of the way so he could properly see the bruises. Why hadn’t Madame Pomfrey gotten rid of them? Was there not a spell for that?

“When I woke up, I was here, and Dumbledore was here. I kept asking about the stone and he told me that he destroyed it.” Harry fidgeted and looked down, curling his hands into fists again, though they still shook slightly.

“So… the stone’s just gone?” Ron asked after a long moment where nobody spoke. “Flamel’s just going to  _ die _ ?”

“That’s what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that--what was it again?--’to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure’.”

Silence fell again for about a minute, before it was once again interrupted by Ron, “I always said he was off his rocker.” Draco snorted, trying to contain his laughter. He had a point there, most of the time Dumbledore was either terrifying or seemed completely mad, not all there.

“And what happened with you?” Harry asked, ignoring Ron’s comment even though the corner of his lips tugged up a little bit.

Their story was technically much shorter than Harry’s, and it didn’t have any sort of reveals, but it still took longer to tell because three people were telling it instead of one. Ron kept interrupting Hermione, and Draco added details every few sentences. 

“Do you think he wanted you to do it?” Ron asked when they finished telling their version of the story. “Since he gave you the cloak and everything?” Draco gave him a confused look, when had they discovered that? Had he missed something?

“ _ Well _ ,” Hermione practically yelled, anger sparking in her eyes, “if that’s true--I mean to say that’s terrible--you could have been killed.”

“No, he didn’t,” Harry said, looking thoughtful. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he just wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he taught us just enough to help us. I don’t think it was an accident that he let me find out how the mirror works. It’s almost like he thought I had a right to face Voldemort if I could…”

“I don’t think that makes things any better. We’re kids, Harry!  _ Mon dieu _ , even if he taught us what we needed to know to survive, that doesn’t mean we absolutely would have! We all could have died, you especially! Even though none of us did, he more or less purposefully put us in danger. Isn’t that sort of messed up?” Draco demanded, not fully comprehending how Harry could possibly think that what their headmaster had done wasn’t dangerous or wrong.

“Yeah, Dumbledore’s definitely off his rocker,” Ron said before Harry could say anything in response to Draco’s words. “Listen, you have to go to the end-of-the-year feast tomorrow. The points are all counted up and Slytherin won--you weren’t there in the last Quidditch game, so Ravenclaw destroyed us without you--honestly, I don’t know how  _ they _ didn’t win, but the food’ll be much better than whatever you get in here.”

Before any of them could say anything, Madame Pomfrey stormed back out of her office, her door slamming open with unnecessary force. “You’ve had fifteen minutes now, OUT!” she yelled and they all scrambled to their feet, shooting one more concerned look at Harry before quickly leaving the Hospital Wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go after this, then art, plus a small teaser of the beginning of the next fic in this series!


	23. The Feast, Grades, and The Hogwarts Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to finish this last week, but I had a ton of tests over the course of the week and had to study, so I didn’t have as much time to write.
> 
> Last chapter!!! Most of this chapter is original stuff because the end of the book is sort of just told, and not really shown in scenes, so I got a bit carried away with original stuff, sort of because it’s fun...
> 
> This story has been so fun to write, and I’ve loved every single one of you guys’ comments! Seriously, everyone who reads, and comments, and subscribes, leaves kudos, and places bookmarks on this fic are awesome, and I love y’all! I can’t wait to write the next part in this series.

The next day, the last day at school before they all left and went back home, was a lot easier than the ones before. None of them were worried about Harry anymore, at least not as much as before, and Ron, Hermione, and Draco all decided to leave him alone for the day knowing that he needed rest. There was a higher chance that he’d be able to come to the end-of-year feast if they left him alone, plus, Draco was pretty sure Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t even let them near the door to the Hospital Wing, let alone inside of it.

The morning was spent sort of milling around outside, it was warm out, the sky was clear, a brilliant bright blue that spread for miles in all directions around them. Birds, which Draco had never noticed nor heard before, sang up in the trees, both at the edge of the forest and the ones scattered across the grounds. The good weather disappeared after lunch, however. Storm clouds pulled over the castle, rain abruptly pouring from their grey depths, lightning crackling, thunder booming, and a silent agreement seemed to pass between all of the first year gryffindors, the guys at least. All five of them—Ron, Draco, Dean, Seamus, and Neville—went up to their dorm after they were done with lunch, Dean and Seamus joking around with each other, and Draco, Ron, and Neville talking about their exams, which Draco had in all honesty mostly forgotten about until they had been told that morning that they would get them back later that day. 

“How long do you guys reckon it’ll take us all to pack?” Ron asked as they walked up the staircase to their dorm room, and Neville shrugged a little bit. It surprised Draco that he hadn’t been even remotely nervous around them since they’d put a full-body bind curse on him. Most people would’ve avoided them like they would curse them again if they got within a five foot radius. Neville, however, had only been slightly hesitant the first day after they had cursed him and then gone back to normal. It was odd how forgiving he was, like they had never done anything wrong.

“All of us, or just you?” Draco asked and Ron shot him a partly amused and partly annoyed look, his eyebrows raised slightly.

“I just said _all_ of us.” Draco shrugged in response, trying not to grin.

“Yeah, but knowing you, you’ll take much longer to pack than I will because you’ll keep getting distracted. You have a very short attention span, Ron,” Draco said and Dean snorted in front of them, turning back to face them as Seamus opened the door to their dorm room.

“He has a bit of a point, Ron. Seamus is the same though.”

“I am not!” Seamus snapped and Dean just laughed, following the other boy into their dorm. They both went over to their beds and Draco, Ron, and Neville did as well, Ron with an annoyed frown on his face.

It was odd, Draco thought as he pulled his trunk out from under his bed, how much his relationship with everyone in his dorm had changed since the beginning of the school year. He had hated all of them at first, had resisted the urge to find hexes to throw at each and every one of them just because he found them annoying. Their loud and sometimes obnoxious behaviour had driven him mad, and he had tried to spend as much time away from them as possible. Harry and Ron became the exception after a month or so, and Neville became more tolerable after the Hufflepuff vs. Gryffindor quidditch match, but Seamus and Dean were still annoying to him until they got in trouble because of being caught out after curfew when they tried to sneak a dragon out of the school. Pretty much everyone else in Gryffindor had hated them because they lost them so many points, the Slytherins had made fun of them for it, and the other two houses had been angry at them for putting Slytherin back in the lead. Seamus and Dean had been surprisingly fine with it; sure, they had been annoyed that they had lost points, but at the same time they both (though it was more Seamus than Dean) thought it was cool that they had snuck out in the first place.

Draco glanced over at the two of them as he threw his trunk open. They were joking around again, something that Draco hadn’t realized until then they had sort of stopped doing while Harry was in the Hospital Wing, unconscious. It was sort of strange to think about the fact that they had their own group of friends with two of the gryffindor girls—Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown—, they seemed like it was just them sometimes. He had seen them around the girls, and they were different then somehow, though it did make Draco wonder whether Hermione might be friends with one or two of the girls as well. She never interacted with them, however, which was a rather odd thing considering she had lived with them for nearly nine months already, then again, she did spend most of her time with Harry, Ron, and Draco or in the library, she probably was only in the dorm when she was sleeping.

Draco shook himself out of his thoughts. Since when did he think so much about the other people in his year? He sighed slightly and returned his focus to his trunk; he hadn’t emptied it completely in the beginning of the year. Technically, he hadn’t taken anything out of it until about a month and a half into school, part of him had thought they were going to discover a mistake and move him to Slytherin, or that his father would come and drag him off home, so he hadn’t unpacked his things until the very beginning of November, after he had sent his first letter to Aunt Andromeda.

_I should probably send her an owl…_ Draco thought distantly as he frowned down at the mess of unused quills, clothes that weren’t his uniform, scraps of paper and parchment, books he had put in there because he didn’t know what else to do with them. The potions book— _Moste Potente Potions_ — that Hermione had given him for Christmas lay in a corner of the trunk, binding still in perfect condition due to it only having been opened once or twice. He picked it up and put it on his nightstand before taking a deep breath and turning his trunk over so that its contents spilled out onto his bed. A few things rolled onto the floor, but most things stayed on top of the blanket. Ron glanced over at him and raised a questioning eyebrow even though his trunk was just as much of a mess, possibly more of one, and needed to be sorted through as well. Draco raised his own eyebrow and Ron rolled his eyes and looked away, though a small amused grin tugged at his lips as he did so. 

For the next hour or so they all mostly packed and organized their stuff in silence, even Seamus and Ron seemed focused on it and barely spoke. Draco stacked all his books onto the bottom of the trunk, creating a layer of books that covered the entire bottom of it, and then began to fold up his uniform—first the shirts, then the pants, then the sweaters, then the robes, and so on—, stacking them on the right side of the trunk, and his non-uniform clothes went on the left side. 

“I thought I lost this!” Neville yelled suddenly and Draco looked up from the quills and ink bottles that he was rolling up in unused scrolls of parchment and his socks so that they hopefully wouldn’t break. He really wished he knew how to do the spells his mother had placed on everything that might break in his trunk before school, but even though he had found them in books in the library, they all seemed too complicated.

Neville was holding his remembrall in his hands, staring at it in wonder. For once, the smoke inside it didn’t change color, and Neville was grinning at it instead of frowning. “I couldn’t find it when I was packing for Christmas and I was sure I’d forgotten it somewhere and wouldn’t find it again…” 

Things sort of got more talkative after that. Neville began to chat with Seamus and Dean, while Ron started making predictions about what their grades would be. 

“Either you’ll be the top of the class, or Hermione. Nobody else in our year is as good as you two, not even the Ravenclaws or Nott,” he said while Draco was putting the rest of his paper—besides two pieces that he was going to use to write a letter to Andromeda— into his trunk. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, partially because of the small mention of Theo, and partially because Ron thought he was smart enough to be top of the class. “Harry probably got really good marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts, even though Quirrell was You-Know-Who, he’s probably the best in that class.”

“Who knows, Ron, we’ll find out tonight after the feast when we get our results back.” Draco rolled his eyes and closed his trunk, placing it at the end of his bed on the floor. Ron hadn’t commented on the fact that he had finished before Draco yet, so it seemed like maybe he wouldn’t.

“I know, but it’s fun to guess!” Draco scoffed but didn’t say anything as he glanced over at the clock hanging over the door, which said that it was six thirty. His eyes widened for a moment, and he blinked. Had they really been in the dorm for six hours, just packing? How had it taken that long? 

“We need to get to the feast,” he said and Ron followed his gaze, eyes widening a bit before a grin spread across his face and he sprang to his feet.

_I guess I’ll write that letter to Aunt Andromeda later..._ Draco thought as he followed the redhead out of the dorm, quickly followed by Dean, Seamus, and Neville, who all seemed to realize where they were going.

* * *

At least half the school was already in the Great Hall when they arrived there, chattering loudly with one another. Ron and Draco slipped into the empty spaces beside Hermione, who must have come down with the girls from her dorm. The food was already spread out on the table, the same amount as there was at the beginning of the year feast, though this time it actually looked appetizing, unlike back then, when everything felt a little bit like sand due to the fact that he was scared of what would happen over the next year. He had a right to be scared, though it didn’t turn out even close to as bad as he thought it would; he had three best friends, who were sort of dangerous to be around but still, he had started talking with his aunt, he had a place he could go over the summer that wasn’t his own house. Things had turned out way better than he had expected they would when the hat had called, “Gryffindor!” back on his first night in the castle.

“I never realized how difficult it would be packing to go home. I have more stuff than I did when I packed up at home after Christmas, not to mention the fact that I didn’t even pack everything when I went home for Christmas. I have so many assignments that I wanted to take home and show mum and dad, but I’m not sure I’ll have enough space to fit them in with everything else,” Hermione said while Draco reached for a bread roll.

“You kept your assignments after you got them back? I threw them all away,” Ron said incredulously and Draco froze, looking over at him in shock. 

“You _what_?” Draco and Hermione both demanded at the same time, but before Ron could answer Harry walked into the Great Hall. A hush fell over the room, which had filled up by that point, and many people turned to face the door when their friends went quiet. Harry fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sleeve and he hesitated for a moment before his eyes landed on Draco, Hermione, and Ron. He practically ran towards them and he quickly sat down between Draco and Hermione, pulling a plate towards himself as he avoided eye contact with everyone else.

“You made it!” Ron said as people started talking again, many glancing over at Harry every few seconds. 

“Yeah, Madame Pomfrey said Dumbledore said I could. I can go back to the dorms tonight too, though that took a bit more convincing on my part,” Harry said, finally looking up from his plate. The bruises on his neck had faded into practically nothing, though he still looked exhausted.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Dumbledore came through the doors and the words died in his throat, as did pretty much everyone else’s. Silence fell over the hall as the headmaster walked through the center of it, between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, and then turned around right in front of the staff table. 

“Another year gone!” Dumbledore yelled, a wide grin on his face, the twinkle in his eyes visible even from this far away. “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are a little fuller than they were… You have the whole summer to get them nice and empty again before next year…” Draco frowned slightly in confusion, Dumbledore was weird, really weird…

“Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with two hundred and sixty-two points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and fifty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.” 

Cheers erupted from the Slytherin table. Pansy and Blaise were grinning widely, both cheering, while Theo, who was sitting next to them gave them odd looks out of the corners of his eyes, barely showing any amount of happiness at having won the house cup beside a maybe partially there smile. Why wasn’t he more excited? He used to ramble on and on about how he wanted to win every award you possibly could at school, which included the house cup, so why wasn’t he just as happy about it as Pansy and Blaise? A frown tugged at Draco’s lips, something wasn’t right, though he doubted he would find out for two different reasons: one, they were leaving the castle the next morning, two, he and Theo weren’t friends anymore so he likely wouldn’t get an answer either way if he did manage to ask him.

“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin,” Dumbledore said. “However, recent events must be taken into account.” 

Draco looked back towards the headmaster in confusion as the hall went silent again. The Slytherins all looked at each other in concern, smiles fading.

“Ahem,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling brighter than before somehow. “I have a few last minute points to dish out. Let’s see… yes…

“First—to Mr. Ronald Weasley…”

Ron turned a deep shade of red when multiple pairs of eyes turned to stare at him, and he shrunk down in his seat, trying to hide behind Hermione, who was much shorter than him. Hermione gave him a look that could be either annoyed or amused, it was always rather difficult to tell the difference between the two with her.

“... for the best-played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Sound seemed to erupt around Draco, cheers being yelled like battle cries, though this time he didn’t cover his ears like he had on the first day of school. He turned to face Ron, who was no longer blushing, but looked pale with shock, and grinned broadly at him.

It took a good two minutes for the noise to die down enough for Dumbledore to speak again, and when he did, he looked at Draco, Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

“Second—Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Hermione buried her face in her arms, shoulders trembling slightly, as Gryffindor erupted into cheers again. They had won a hundred points in just five minutes, they were ahead of Hufflepuff! They were no longer in last place!

“Third—Mr. Draco Malfoy… for showing true courage, loyalty, and bravery even in the face of incredible danger, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”

Draco’s eyes widened in shock and he gulped, not sure he had heard the headmaster correctly. He got fifty points? He got the points he lost Gryffindor months ago back, simply by helping Harry get to the stone, and he hadn’t even really done much himself. The other three had done much more than he had; Harry had stopped Voldemort from getting the stone, Ron had won them the chess game and figured out which type of key they needed, Hermione had gotten them out of the Devil's Snare and had solved the Potions puzzle, he hadn’t done anything. The gryffindors were cheering again, but Draco could barely hear them, too shocked to notice it until it was gone again and Dumbledore was speaking.

“Fourth—Mr. Harry Potter... “ Dumbledore said and the hall went dead silent. A snitch’s wings could’ve been heard had one flown in, it was so quiet as the school waited to hear how many points Harry would win. “... for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.”

The screams and cheers that time were somehow ten times louder than before, deafening even. They were tied with Slytherin! Draco doubted that was accidental, he was pretty sure Dumbledore had purposefully made them get enough points to reach four hundred and seventy two.

Dumbledore raised a hand and somehow the hall went quiet again, as if he had cast a spell, though Draco doubted he did. It was technically illegal to cast spells that could control what someone did, so it couldn’t have been that.

“There are all kinds of courage,” said Dumbledore, smiling. What was he doing? “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom.” 

If Draco thought the cheers were loud for Harry, they were even worse for Neville. People threw themselves at him, hugging him as they cheered. They’d beaten Slytherin! Draco’s face broke out into a wide grin.

Someone elbowed him in the side and he stopped for a moment, turning to see Harry pointing across the hall to Pansy and Blaise, who both looked as if someone had hexed them with all the hexes they’d cast on people throughout the year. Theo was still giving them that odd look, though his grin was still semi-present, for some reason.

“That means,” Dumbledore yelled over the noise, which the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had joined in on. Draco found it sort of odd that they were happy they lost, just because Slytherin also did. “ we need to redecorate a bit.”

He clapped and suddenly all of the banners turned from emerald green to scarlet red, and from silver to gold. The huge snakes on them transformed into lions, and Severus reluctantly stood up and shook Professor McGonagall’s hand, a smile he wore when he was trying not to show how much he hated something appearing on his face. He glanced their way as he sat back down and Draco froze, a stab of guilt going through him as he remembered that he had blamed him for what had happened, had thought he was the one responsible for all of the bad and mysterious stuff that year. His godfather’s eyes weren’t cold when they met his, though they didn’t rest on him very long, and Draco looked down when he looked away.

Draco quickly shoved away all thoughts of his godfather and went back to talking with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The rest of the night was happy, the air lighter than it had been in a long time, maybe even lighter than he could ever remember it. For the first time, Draco understood what people meant when they said home was the best place to be, was the place where you went when you needed comfort. The Manor wasn’t his home, Hogwarts was, with his friends, something he never thought he’d really have.

* * *

_Dear Aunt Andromeda,_

_I’m sorry it took me so long to respond to your last letter, I was… busy? I guess that’s the word you could use. I’m not sure if you’ve heard about what’s been going on at Hogwarts, or more like what happened, but even if you have, I thought it might be a good idea to explain it, since it does have to do with me, though it’s more connected to Harry than me._

_First, though, how are you, Tonks and Uncle Ted? Has anything particularly interesting happened lately? Has Tonks done anything particularly funny? I’m doing well, though all the interesting stuff that’s happened here is my main reason for writing this letter, so I suppose I shouldn’t stall anymore..._

_Over the course of the year weird things have been happening. I told you about some of them in my letters, though I never really explained why they were super important. We accidentally found a cerberus dog in the forbidden corridor on the third floor, guarding a trapdoor. On halloween someone let a troll into the school and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I had to defeat it (that sounds odd to write, even though it’s what happened). Harry’s broom was hexed during his first quidditch match in an attempt to throw him off of it and make it look like an accident, but Hermione somehow managed to stop the person. When we got detention for being outside of our dorm at night and had to go into the forest, we encountered Voldemort, or at least some form of him, drinking the blood of a unicorn. And a couple nights ago we figured out that someone was going to try to get past the cerberus, so we snuck out and tried to stop him. We knew there was something valuable down there, and the teachers didn’t believe us when we said someone was going to try to steal what it was. It didn’t exactly go as planned, Ron got hurt, so did Harry._

_Everything’s alright now, we’re all okay, but I thought it would be a good idea to tell you myself instead of you reading it in the Daily Prophet, if it shows up in there. Anyways, I hope to hear back from you even though I’m heading back to the Manor today._

_Draco_

* * *

The scrolls of parchment with their grades scrawled onto them in neat writing were lying on their beds when they got back to the dorms after dinner, tied up with scarlet red ribbons, but everyone just moved them to their bedside tables and collapsed into their beds. They were all asleep pretty much instantly, and morning seemed to come just as quickly, as if the night hadn’t fully taken place. 

Draco woke up feeling lighter than he had in weeks, and for once he didn’t yell at, or even complain to, his dormmates like he usually would when he heard them talking loudly early in the morning. He opened the curtains surrounding his bed and tiredly rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep out of them. 

Harry had his trunk thrown open on his bed, which was neatly made, unlike all the other boys’ beds, and he was moving around the room, grabbing pretty much everything that belonged to him and placing it neatly in his trunk. Unlike everyone else in the dorm, besides Draco, he didn’t have anything that could stay there permanently. Dean, Seamus, and Ron were all talking about their summer plans, still in their pajamas, and Neville was nowhere in sight.

“Morning,” Harry said and Draco looked over at him again, seeing a small smile spread across his face. It looked slightly tense, not forced exactly, just strained, so unlike the bright grin he’d had the night before at the feast that Draco had to refrain himself from frowning.

“Morning, sleep well?” Harry nodded, a bit of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders, his smile a bit less strained like Draco acting as if everything was normal made him feel better about whatever it was that was bothering him.

“Yeah, had to get up early though since I couldn’t pack yesterday,” Harry said and turned away from him again to continue putting things in his trunk. Everything inside it seemed to be organized; his books had disappeared from sight, no longer stacked in piles on his bedside table as they had been the night before, his closet was open, empty of all clothes, which were every so slightly visible over the rim of the trunk. 

Draco wasn’t exactly sure what to say in response to that so he simply stood up and grabbed the clothes he had thrown on top of his trunk the day before. Normally he wouldn’t have cared about changing in front of his dormmates, but some part of him felt on edge again, like he had the first couple months of school. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was going back to Malfoy Manor, that he would be in the same building as his father again, for the first time since he’d been sorted into Gryffindor, since he had been all but disowned by his father. Maybe it had something to do with Harry being tense and nervous. He wasn’t sure, but no matter what it was, he slipped into the bathroom attached to their dorm, closing the door behind himself. _Maybe Harry’s nervous for the same reason…_ part of him whispered, but he shoved it away. The thought didn’t make any sense, Harry shouldn’t have a home life that he would fear returning to, he couldn’t.

* * *

Three hours later, after they had all gone down to eat breakfast and returned to their dorm to make sure they hadn’t forgotten to pack anything, Seamus finding Neville’s toad, Trevor, in the bathroom, they all wandered down to the main entrance hall of the castle. The doors were thrown wide open, letting a warm breeze in and the light from outside illuminating the whole corridor more than it had all year. Students, young and old, were all lingering on the steps, saying goodbyes to friends they wouldn’t sit with on the train. Some were wearing muggle clothes already, while others were still wearing their uniforms. 

There was a line of black carriages in front the steps, though there wasn’t anything pulling them, which wasn’t the oddest thing in the world. Many things were done with magic when it worked, especially when it was something that was only done or used every once in a while. It took Draco a moment to notice that the boats they had ridden on their first night at Hogwarts were back on the lake, Hagrid standing next to them, looming over all of the students who were all at least a foot shorter than him, his usual coat gone again. A smile lit up Harry’s face when he saw him and before Draco could fully register what was happening, he and Ron were both being dragged by him towards the gamekeeper.

Hagrid smiled when he saw them, though his eyes looked a bit sad as he looked down at them. “Yeh four ready ter go?” Draco blinked and turned around to see Hermione standing just behind them. When had she gotten there? As far as Draco knew, she hadn’t been with them on the way down to the lake.

“Where’d you come from?” Ron demanded, staring at her incredulously and she looked at him for a moment before smirking.

“I teleported,” she said and Ron scoffed, rolling his eyes while Harry stared at her as if he actually believed her.

“You can do that?”

“No, of course she can’t. Nobody can learn to apparate until they’re _at least_ sixteen,” Draco said and Hermione scowled slightly, making a slightly offended noise.

“I’m sure I could figure it out if I tried,” she said, but didn’t contradict his statement.

“Doubt it, but you keep telling yourself that,” Ron said, though a grin was tugging at his lips. Harry looked between the three of them with confusion written all over his face, eyebrows scrunched together, lips pressed into a firm line that’s corners were turned ever so slightly downwards. Before any of them could say anything, another voice spoke from behind them. 

“How much longer until we’re leaving?” Theo Nott asked, not unkindly and when Draco turned to face him, his gaze was directed past them at Hagrid. A jolt of surprise went through Draco at the sight of him, mostly due to the fact that he was alone, neither Pansy nor Blaise with him, but also partially because he looked like he had before Hogwarts, in the same type of clothes he would wear when he came over to Draco’s house when they were younger. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, unlike almost all of the other first years, especially the slytherins, who all seemed determined to wear robes as long as possible. 

His gaze flicked towards Draco and for a brief second their eyes met. Something like an apology was written in them, but before Draco could even properly think about it, Theo looked away again. It was odd, and confusing, but there wasn’t really time for him to question Theo about it because Hagrid answered his question.

“The train leaves in half an hour so we should get goin’ as fast as possible.” Theo nodded and walked away without looking at Draco again, likely going to find his friends so they could get on a boat together. An odd flash of disappointment went through him but he shook it off when Harry went over to a boat and climbed in. He had new friends now, Theo wasn’t one of them. He had no reason to miss him, especially since he hadn’t been even remotely nice to him since he’d been sorted into Gryffindor.

Draco, Ron, and Hermione followed Harry into the boat and gradually each of the other boats filled as well. The crowd in front of the school thinned as students got into the carriages and once everyone was gone from the steps and grounds, their boats seemed to take off of their own accord. The ride across the lake was different and the same as the first one, on the first day of school. He was with a different group of people, with completely different personalities, but it felt almost the same for some reason. His chest ached with an odd sense of fear, caused by completely different things than the last time, and he attempted to push it away by talking with his friends. It worked a bit better than it had the first time; by the time they reached the opposite shore his hands were no longer trembling.

* * *

“What were your grades?” Hermione asked them after they’d placed their trunks, which had been waiting for them on the train platform when they got there, in the racks above them in their compartment. Ron looked up from the chess game he was setting up, his eyebrows furrowed in the expression he got every time he was reminded of something he was supposed to do, but didn’t.

“Um… I never checked,” he said and Hermione stared at him as if he had just set a book on fire.

“ _You never checked?_ ” she demanded, voice an octave higher than usual with shock. Ron stared at her, a nervous glint in his eyes as a small smile spread across his face and he shook his head.

“Neither did I,” Harry said, and Draco looked over at him at the same time as Hermione spun to face him. 

“You too?” Harry shrugged a little bit, a flash of guilt glinting in his eyes for a second as he looked down. Hermione stared incredulously at him, then at Ron before looking back again. “Why in the world did neither of you check? I looked at them the moment I got back to my dorm, as any logical person would do!”

“I didn’t check until this morning,” Draco spoke up, trying to draw her attention away from Harry and Ron. “We were all exhausted, so we just sort of... set them aside. Ron probably forgot and Harry was packing pretty much all morning, so he never really had time.” He wasn’t sure why exactly he was trying to give excuses for why they didn’t look at their grades, it just seemed like Hermione was overreacting a little bit and Harry seemed tense enough as it was.

Hermione blinked and looked over at Draco, almost as if she couldn’t believe he was taking their side, though a bit of the tension that had built up in her shoulders faded. She glanced over at Harry and then Ron again before she sat down in her seat again, looking a bit embarrassed. “Right, sorry. You guys _should_ check though.”

The nervous look in Ron’s eyes disappeared and he nodded. “Yeah, maybe later. Anyone up for a game of chess?” Harry nodded, the quickest agreement Draco had ever seen him make to playing chess, and moved over to the seat next to Ron, who looked a bit surprised but still grinned as he finished setting up the game. Hermione glanced over at them, a glint of slight annoyance still in her eyes, though she also looked a bit guilty. Maybe Draco hadn’t been the only one to notice Harry’s somewhat odd behaviour.

* * *

The first couple hours of the train ride passed by quickly. Most of them were spent playing chess, which became one of the tournaments they’d been doing for months at Hogwarts. The trolley witch came by about two hours into the ride and Harry bought a decent amount of sweets from her, almost all of which Hermione gave slightly skeptical glances as if she wasn’t quite what to make of them. She grabbed one of the Cauldron cakes and turned it over, inspecting the packaging. 

“The food label on this doesn’t even make any sense! I can’t find where it says how much sugar’s in it.” Hermione frowned, eyebrows knit in frustration and confusion.

“Why does it matter?” Ron asked without looking up from the chess game he was currently playing against Draco. 

“Because my parents will kill me if they find out I ate something with too much sugar in it, especially on the way home. It was fine during the school year when they had no way of knowing that I ate anything that’s technically bad for my teeth but now…” Hermione grimaced slightly and put the small cake down beside her, back in the pile of sweets.

“Why would they care if you eat anything sweet?” Harry asked, speaking up for the first time since he’d taken his transfiguration textbook and a piece of parchment out, along with a quill and bottle of ink. It was sort of odd, Draco thought, that Harry, who always waited to do his homework until last minute, would start on the summer homework before he was even home.

“Because they’re dentists and they basically forbid me from eating any kind of candy at home,” Hermione sounded almost annoyed about that fact, though it was more annoyed in the sense that she just thought it was pointless, not that it was necessarily a bad thing that inconvenienced her. Draco furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, what was a dentist?

“They’re dentists? You never told us that,” Harry said, looking up from his essay.

“It never really came up.” Hermione shrugged and went back to the pile of sweets, grabbing a pumpkin pasty and inspecting it briefly before seemingly deciding it wouldn’t upset her parents if she ate it and opened the packaging.

“What’s a dentist?” Draco couldn’t help asking and Ron looked over at Harry and Hermione. The look on his face suggested that he wanted to know the answer to the question as well, but hadn’t wanted to ask it himself.

Hermione and Harry both looked at them in shock. “Wizards don’t have them?” They spoke at the exact same time, their shocked tones of voice nearly identical. Ron and Draco glanced at each other and both shrugged.

“No…?” Ron said slowly, hesitating ever so slightly.

“They clean your teeth, make sure they don’t rot and stuff. They’re sort of like doctors, but for your teeth,” Hermione said and Draco blinked.

“Weird…” he murmured and turned back to the chess board. “We just use magic to make sure that doesn’t happen, or to fix it if it does.” Ron nodded and did the same as Draco, moving his knight a moment later.

“My parents would be appalled by that,” Hermione muttered and they all sort of went silent again after that.

* * *

“Why don’t we do something else? As fun as beating all of you guys in chess is, it gets a bit boring after three hours,” Ron said after he beat Draco for a third time in a row.

“I need to finish as much of this as I can…” Harry muttered and Draco looked over at him in surprise. He was sitting next to Hermione, who was reading a book on the history of wizarding britain, and he had his charms textbook out, with a fresh piece of parchment. His hair had gotten messier since the beginning of Draco and Ron’s fourth chess game in a row, and his frown had grown a bit, along with the tension in his shoulders.

“Harry, you have all summer, at least take a break. Even Hermione isn’t doing her homework yet,” Draco said and Hermione glanced up from her book at the mention of her name.

“I’m not sure how much of my magical things my aunt and uncle will let me keep…” Harry’s voice was softer than usual, like he didn’t want to admit that fact and a piece of a memory from a winter night months ago, something Harry had said that hadn’t made much sense, resurfaced in Draco’s mind: _“They hate magic, wizards, everything to do with it. That... includes me.”_. Harry had acted despondent and forcefully blank when he spoke about his family, he got like that every time—not that there were many, he tended to avoid the topic—he spoke of his aunt, uncle, and cousin.

“Why wouldn’t they let you keep your things? Especially if you need them for homework,” Hermione demanded, putting her book down and turning on her seat to face Harry.

“They don’t like magic,” he said with that practiced detachment and then looked down at his charms book.

“Harry…” Draco started to say, but Harry gave him a small, pleading glance. His eyes glimmered with slight fear, something he had shown maybe once, when he talked about his encounter with Voldemort. The words died in his throat and he swallowed thickly, trying to stop the frown on his face from growing.

Harry looked away again and shrunk a bit further into the corner of the compartment they were sitting in, like he wanted to disappear into the shadows. Ron, Hermione, and Draco frowned at him, none of them trying to hide their concern but all knowing that they wouldn’t get a response if they asked him about why he was so nervous and why he avoided the topic of his muggle family like talking about them would release some sort of curse.

* * *

The next hour passed in silence. Hermione went back to her book, glancing at Harry every once in a while, and Ron and Draco went back to playing chess, mainly just because they didn’t really know what else to do.

“Harry,” Ron said rather out of the blue, “if your aunt and uncle really do take your things away, you can do the rest of the homework when you're at my house.”

Harry looked up from Charms homework, which he was still working on, and stared at Ron. “You still think I can come after I put you in danger by dragging you along with me through the Trapdoor?”

“Of course, mum doesn’t care. Well, she does care that I could’ve been killed by… a lot of different things, but she doesn’t blame you.” Harry blinked and continued to stare at him like he couldn't believe that Ron was telling the truth, like it was impossible for someone to not blame him for Ron, Hermione, and Draco having been in danger. Ron frowned at him and shifted slightly in his seat so he was fully facing Harry and not just looking at him. “Harry, it’s not your fault. We _chose_ to go with you down there.”

“We wanted to help you, Harry, everyone knows that. Nobody blames you, especially not us.” Hermione’s hand twitched like she wanted to reach out and grab Harry’s, but refrained herself from doing it.

“I-”

“No, Harry, you _do not_ get to blame yourself. The fact that we were ever in danger is Voldemort’s fault, maybe a little bit Dumbledore’s, it’s not yours. Any time, in the past or in the future, that we are in danger because we’re trying to help you, to protect you, it will not be your fault. We’re your _friends_ , Harry, if you put yourself in danger for any reason, we’re following you. You’re never going to be able to stop us from doing that, and that’s not your fault. We will stand by your side no matter what.” Harry stared at Draco, eyes wide and lips parted slightly.

“I… okay, but-”

“No ‘but’s, my family loves you, Ginny maybe a little… too much.” Harry blinked and looked at Ron, confusion etched all over his face, eyebrows scrunched together, lips turned down at one corner.

“Huh?” A small, confused noise escaped Harry and Ron’s face flushed, his cheeks turning a bright red.

“My sister might be… a little, um… obsessed with you,” Ron phrased it almost like a question and he fidgeted with the hem of his left sleeve, avoiding their gazes.

“What? Why?” Harry demanded at the same time as Draco snorted with laughter and pressed a hand to his mouth to try to stifle his snickers. Hermione grinned, succeeding much more at hiding her laughter than Draco, and her eyes glinted with amusement. 

“Harry, you’re a famous wizard who’s only a year older than her,” Draco said through a grin.

“That doesn’t make it any less weird!” he protested, gesturing wildly with his hands as if to emphasize something, though all it really did was flick a drop of ink from the end of the quill he was still holding.

“Never said it did,” Draco said at the same time as Hermione yelled: “Hey! Harry!”

The ink had landed on Hermione’s face, it seemed, judging by the blue smudge on her right cheek, and she was scowling down at the blue on her fingers which she had obviously just smudged the ink with. There was still a glint of amusement in her eyes, however, so she likely wasn’t actually that annoyed.

“Sorry, Hermione,” Harry murmured, though he himself looked a little amused, which was certainly an improvement from before. “Seriously, though, what do you mean exactly by obsessed, Ron?”

“You’ll see this summer… or maybe even at the train station. Speaking of which, how much longer do you guys think it’ll be until we get there? It feels like we’ve been on this train for a whole day already.”

“It’s…” Hermione glanced at the watch, which Draco had never seen her wear before, on her wrist, “about five thirty, so… we’ll probably get there soon. We should probably change out of our uniforms.”

* * *

An hour later, they rode into London, buildings that were unfamiliar to Draco rushing past before they pulled into King’s Cross and Platform 9 ¾. The station was crowded with people, all in wizarding robes, exactly as it had been on the first day of school, when the Hogwarts Express pulled to a stop. Hermione snapped her book shut, and stood up, reaching up to pull her trunk down from the rack above her seat. Ron yawned loudly, like he’d just woken up even though he’d been talking with Draco and Harry, technically Hermione as well, except she was reading the whole time, about what to expect from his family.

“Finally,” Ron murmured and grabbed his trunk as well, along with the cage with his rat—Scabbers—in it. Draco had tried his hardest to ignore the rat for the entire year and had mostly succeeded, though that was likely due to the fact that they were so busy with everything else going on. 

Harry did the same as Ron, pulling his trunk and owl cage down from the rack and opening the trunk to put his Charms homework inside. Draco followed their lead and pulled his own trunk down from the rack, nearly dropping it as he did so. _How did I get that up there in the first place?_ He wondered as he looked up for a moment at the rack and then down his trunk. 

“It is not going to be fun carrying these out onto the platform…” Draco muttered and Ron snorted.

“Yeah, these things are bloody heavy,” he said and tried to lift his trunk, nearly dropping it on his toes as he did so.

“How about Ron and I take his trunk, and Harry and Hermione take one of their trunks and then we come back for the other two?” 

“Great idea,” Ron said and put his trunk back down before grabbing one end of it again. Draco grabbed the other end and together they lifted it up, Harry and Hermione doing the same with Hermione’s trunk. It took the four of them fifteen minutes to haul all of their trunks down onto the platform and then to get their stuff all onto trolleys.

They wandered across the platform towards the exit where someone was letting people out in groups of two or three at a time, people yelling goodbyes after them. Most were aimed at Harry, telling him to have a good summer, or that they’ll see him next year. 

“Still famous,” Ron said in a teasing tone, smirking over at Harry, who looked faintly uncomfortable with the amount of people calling after him.

“Not where I’m going.” Draco frowned at him, once again remembering the way Harry acted every time they talked about his family and home life. He knew the feeling of not being exactly welcome at home anymore, but why did Harry feel that way as well? What was wrong with his relatives? Harry rarely talked about them, and that night over Christmas break, and when Ron told them all they could visit, or come stay with, the Weasleys’ that summer after Draco’s father had told him to come back to the Manor for the summer in a not kind way… he hadn’t acted like himself. Both times he had obviously been uncomfortable and distant, nervous in the same way that he was on the train, slightly scared. Everything about those interactions had seemed off to Draco, he didn’t know how exactly, but they seemed wrong.

Before Draco could say anything to Harry, he and Hermione were at the front of the line being let out into the station. The man let them through and just moments after the weird feeling of passing through the barrier washed over him, Harry and Ron came through as well.

“There he is, Mum, there he is, look!” a young feminine voice that Draco had never heard before yelled. Ron groaned loudly and pressed a hand to his face. Draco looked up and saw a redheaded girl who looked a lot like a younger Ron standing next to a slightly plump, redheaded woman, pointing at Harry and grinning. “Harry Potter! Look, Mum! I can see-”

Ron groaned again and glared over at her.

“Quiet down, Ginny, and you don’t point at people,” the woman who Draco assumed was Ron’s mother said softly and smiled softly at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. She looked a lot like what Draco had imagined her looking like, smile lines etched deep into her face, eyes twinkling happily, hair red and curly. 

“Busy year?” she asked them when they approached her and all four of them nodded.

“Very,” Harry said, smiling back at her. “Thanks for the fudge and sweater, Mrs. Weasley.” 

“Thanks for mine too, it’s really soft,” Draco felt his cheeks heat up a bit and he smiled nervously at Mrs. Weasley.

“Oh, it was nothing, dears.” Her eyes crinkled at the sides when she smiled at them and a sense of comfort that Draco had never felt from his own mother washed over him.

“Ready, are you?” A gruff voice spoke from behind them, breaking the moment of calm and warmth. Harry tensed up for a second before turning around to face the person who spoke. Draco turned as well and found himself face to face with a man who looked like the very definition of an average muggle, who Draco was immediately sure was Harry’s uncle. His thick mustache, his balding head, his short, round body structure, his clothes that look like they were supposed to be seen as fancy; all of it screamed muggle. It was as if Harry’s aunt had purposefully chosen someone as ordinary and non magical as she could find. In that moment it made a little more sense why Harry hated him so much, even if he hadn’t known about magic before Hogwarts, anyone wouldn’t have liked him.

A blond woman with a long neck, and a boy their age who looked exactly like a younger version of Harry’s uncle stood a few feet away, like they wanted to stay as far away from anyone who might look odd as possible.The looks on their faces seemed scared, or horrified, by Harry’s arrival, like he brought along a curse with him. A frown tugged at Draco’s lips and he refrained himself from telling Harry to just go home with Ron then and not wait till later.

“You must be Harry’s family!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, her smile still wide, though a bit of the twinkle in her eyes had faded, replaced by confusion. 

“In a manner of speaking,” the man said and glared down at Harry for a moment. “Hurry up, boy, we haven’t got all day.” With that he turned and walked away again, back to the woman and boy who were probably Harry’s aunt and cousin. Harry didn’t follow him, but instead turned to face Ron, Hermione, and Draco again. 

“We’ll see each other this summer, then,” Harry said with a smile that seemed forced. Draco wasn’t quite sure what to say to Harry, so he glanced after his relatives, still frowning. How could Harry handle them if they looked at him that way and spoke to him like he didn’t have a name, like he wasn’t a member of their family?

“I hope you have a—er—good holiday,” Hermione said uncertainly, looking desperately after Harry’s uncle like Draco.

“Oh, definitely.” Harry smirked in a rather un-Harry-like fashion, his green eyes glinting behind his round glasses. “They don’t know that we’re not allowed to use magic outside of school. I’m going to have loads of fun with Dudley this summer…” Draco’s jaw dropped.

“Harry!” he exclaimed but Harry’s smirk just grew before he followed his uncle.

“Remind me why we’re friends with him again?” Ron snorted at Draco’s words and first cast him an amused look, then Hermione. 

“You know why,” he said simply and Draco looked after Harry as he disappeared into the crowd of muggles in King’s Cross station, a small smile spreading across his face despite the fact that in just a short amount of time he would have to return to Malfoy Manor, the cold place he used to call home but really didn’t want to go back to.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I point out how weird Dumbledore talks sometimes, lol? Like, he says the most random of things ever and they just sound like he’s insane. I don’t blame people for thinking he’s insane, I mean, he sort of is in his own way, I guess...


	24. Art News + Teaser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a teaser of the next book, and a link to my Tumblr where I am and will continue to post the art I draw for this fic. At the moment it’s not much, but... well, it’s there, so... I was gonna put it on here, but Ao3 won’t cooperate with me so... yeah

[My Tumblr](https://writing-is-hard-af.tumblr.com/)

* * *

Draco Malfoy was tired. That seemed to be the case a lot since he had returned to Malfoy Manor after his first year at Hogwarts; it was difficult to sleep when it felt like the too long shadows in the house were reaching towards him like claws, inches from grabbing hold of him and dragging him away into the darkness. His father wasn’t much help either on the whole failure to properly sleep thing, he seemed to be watching every single thing Draco did with an abundance of attention. He had stopped him more than once when Draco had been sending letters to his friends with one of the family’s owls--never his father’s or mother’s, always one of the other ones--and threatened to take away his privileges of using the family’s owls. So far he’d had no luck in stopping Draco, mainly because his mother had somehow convinced him that if he stopped sending letters to people they might start to get suspicious, not that there was anything to be suspicious of in her opinion. Still, it had been nerve wracking for his father to say that it was even a possibility that he couldn’t write his friends, or his aunt, and--during the last couple weeks--his cousin, Nymphadora, or Tonks, as she preferred.

His aunt, Andromeda, had started talking a lot more about Tonks in the letters she sent him over the summer because she was home for the summer until her second year of Auror training started in late August. At first nothing had really seemed that interesting, mostly just things about auror training, after a few letters though Andromeda started half making fun of and half complaining about the failed “romances” Tonks had had over the year that she rambled about, the pranks she had pulled on her fellow trainees, as well as on Andromeda and Ted over the summer, along with many other things that were funny enough that Draco wasn’t always feeling like he just wanted to shrink into the floor of the Manor and hide until the first day of September. He’d started owling Tonks during the second week of July, partially because he wanted to hear things from her perspective, partially because she seemed cool. Since then they’d been owling rather consistently, though not quite as often as Draco did with Ron and Hermione.

He had received his first letter from Ron two days into break, and from Hermione a week in. Harry hadn’t sent him anything, nor did it seem like he’d received any of the letters Draco had sent him. The first few letters that came back unread, Draco had simply assumed the family owl’s had gotten lost, that happened sometimes the first time they delivered a letter to someone, but by the fourth owl that returned with the letter still attached to its leg, Draco wasn’t so sure anymore. He had asked Ron and Hermione about it in his next letter, and had received the same response from both of them--Harry hadn’t sent them anything, and their letters seemed to just disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this book, and that you’ll read the next one, Trails if Darkness, which should come out around Thanksgiving! Bye!


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